


Winning Phryne

by Hopesjourney



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:51:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 68,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2373452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopesjourney/pseuds/Hopesjourney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if everything changed?  What would Jack Robinson do to win Phryne Fisher?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On my site, http://winningphryne.blogspot.com/ I have update the Cast of Characters.

Chapter 1

Jack held Rosie as sobs tore through her body, patting her much as he would a small child. The shock of it all, the betrayal of Sidney Fletcher and her father must have been overwhelming to her. He felt he could do no less than to try and help her through this first shock wave of pain and humiliation. Certainly, it was a shock to him, a blow that struck him in his gut, learning that George Sanderson, his mentor who had personally guided his career, the Chief Commissioner, was involved in all this. He'd admired George Sanderson with a respect that was built of many years of appreciation for what he'd learned from him, the sense of justice that he had imbued to Jack. And still, in the end, he had succumbed to temptation to - what? To turn a blind eye on his godson's endeavors? To sanction them? The thought made Jack's stomach roil for a moment and he swallowed down the bitter bile that had surged upwards like an army determined to overtake him.

Both of the men in her life had left Rosie desolated, alone in a world where she would surely be ostracized, turned away from her set and social groups like rubbish. Their divorce had been a huge strike against her, but Sidney Fletcher's money and connections saw to it that it was mostly hidden from her. 

Of course, all this came after Jack had deserted her as well, in a matter of speaking. His inability to communicate his pain, pain that still clutched greedily at his mind from time to time had left him emotionally bereft. So he'd shut her out after the war, but what else could he have done. Rosie was not the kind of woman who would have suffered the truth about war. 

After 15 years of marriage and a year after a divorce, he still cared about her happiness. It wasn't love, but more of a nagging guilt that held him so tight at times that he felt he couldn't breathe, as if being strangled by an incompetent executioner. After all, he'd let her down terribly; he'd let them both down. The truth was, she never really knew why, never understood the changes in him after the war and he'd been unable to tell her either. How do you tell someone what you saw, what you did and that sometimes only the will to survive drove you onward. Could he tell her how it felt when his bayonet penetrated the chest of another human, the sound of steel on bone, the whoosh of air rushing out of a body? Another person, someone who was probably as young as he was, maybe with a wife of his own. 

Jack couldn't forget the smells that had surrounded them in the trenches; blood, sulfur, death or of the keening wails of injury and suffering that ripped through the air, not only of his comrades but from the Germans as well. It would have been indecent to tell a gentle woman such as Rosie of those things so he had remained silent on the subject, tucking it away in his own mind forever. Of course it didn't really remain there, but it was a struggle he tried to carry on with by himself.

Jack glanced around to see that Phryne had left and the pit of his stomach clenched in pain as if he'd been sucker-punched. She'd been through so much; she needed comforting as well, he was sure of it but being Phryne she wouldn't want anyone to know. He felt a moment of panic and desperation; he needed to get to her but first he needed to get Rosie home to her sister's house.

He tried to gently pull her arms off of him and the sobs increased in volume and pitch, the high timbre almost hurting his ears. He redoubled his efforts and told her, "Rosie, let's get you home to Annabelle's; you'll feel better there. Come along now," he said, taking her arm from around his neck and leading her out of the station. 

The ride to Annabelle's home was strangely quiet. Rosie stopped crying, and in fact Jack thought for a moment that he saw her mouth twist upwards for half a moment, but he put it down to the lateness of the night and the darkness inside the automobile, lighted only by an occasional street lamp. She never said a word and Jack felt that she was trying to come to terms with the events of this night.

Her world was about to be turned upside down, no denying it he knew. Annabelle's husband, Elliott was an affluent business man, from a prominent family with a history that was above reproach. The Barrington's had, like Phryne, connections to the king and used their wealth and notability to promote charity and compassion to the cities less fortunate individuals. There were so many individuals who were ragged survivors of life, struggling to take any step they could due to the current financial circumstances and the still aching wounds of a war that had taken so many young men and crippled others. Hopefully under the umbrella of the Barrington's, Rosie might shelter and find her way in life. But even that wouldn't be easy for her or Annabelle either for that matter.

Jack parked the car in front of the Barrington home and noted that other than an entry light, the house was dark. He sighed, knowing that what was to come would not be easy; Annabelle would have to be told of the night's goings on. He opened his door and came around to Rosie's side and opened her door for her before holding his hand out to help her out of the vehicle. Almost as soon as she took it the sobs started again and Jack guided her as quickly to the door as possible in the hope that she wouldn't wake the neighbors.

She fumbled with her key at the door and Jack took it from her, patiently working the lock and opening the door for her to enter. He'd been a visitor many times in the Barrington household and steered Rosie into the front parlor, turning the switch to light the room. A quick glance around showed several bottles of alcohol on a side table and he went to it, pouring Rosie a shot of brandy in hopes that it would steady her a bit as the sobbing had risen to near deafening levels since she had seated herself on an emerald green and mauve upholstered sofa.

"Rosie, drink this," he all but commanded, hoping to keep her from rousing the whole household. 

She drank it straight down without a sputter and handed the glass back to him. He refilled it and set it on a table in front of her in time to see Barlow, the Barrington's butler enter the room, attired in a gray woolen dressing gown. Jack stepped over closer to him so that they might speak without having to yell over the sobs that continued.

"Barlow, you should wake Mr. and Mrs. Barrington. I'm afraid I have some bad news for them."

"Mr. Barrington is not here, Detective Robinson. I'm afraid he is in Sidney at the moment." He acknowledged Jack's nod of understanding and added, "I shall wake Mrs. Barrington then."

"Waking Mrs. Barrington is not necessary," Annabelle stated, heading down the staircase. "Jack, always good to see you but what on earth has happened?" She greeted Jack with a light kiss on his cheek and was perplexed by his uneasy demeanor, deciding that Rosie had somehow gotten herself into trouble; probably something to do with that rogue she called her fiancé. 

Since they had been children Annabelle had detested Sidney Fletcher. Coldly cruel, until he wanted something, Sidney had been a careless human being, always dragging Rosie into one scheme or another that usually got both of them into trouble. When he and his family had went to England before the war everyone had breathed a sigh of relief; everyone except for Rosie that is. She had idolized that irreverent fool and actually missed him. Lucky for the family that Constable Jack Robinson had entered their lives and Rosie had been well and truly smitten, seeming to forget all about Sidney.

She had put Fletcher behind her and appeared sincerely in love with the handsome young constable. They were married a year later, much to the admiration of the family and Rosie had been deliriously happy, setting up a home for them. She seemed to float through her life, as did Jack, so much in love they were.

Until the war began a year later. Afterward everything changed including Sidney Fletcher returning, never having spent a moment fighting for God and country. Annabelle shuddered with the thought of that despicable man who seemed proud to have circumvented that proud service by attending university. The coward's way Annabelle always thought.

As soon as Rosie spied Annabelle she rushed across the room and threw herself into her elder sister's arms. Annabelle raised an eyebrow in inquiry to Jack and he shook his head. It was clear that something was terribly wrong and she led Rosie back to the sofa and listened as Rosie poured out the whole tale, interspersed with comments by Jack at times.

As she listened her eyes narrowed and her face became angry, her hazel eyes sparking dangerously as she heard the tale. 

"So that abominable man has finally managed to drag our father down with him?" she said, and her loathing for Sidney was not held back at all. "Now father is in jail no doubt because Sidney has managed to enter him into his deceitful machinations."

"No, Annie, NO. Sidney would never..." Rosie started but she was quickly cut off by her sisters raised voice.

"Yes, Sidney has and you know for a fact that he has done many a sly deed in the past, Rosie. I'll make no excuses for him and neither shall you; I won't allow it."

"No, Sidney was only trying to help those poor girls; out of Australia they could start a new life, begin anew. That's all. Father was just to help make sure that the poor girls got the help they needed."

As he listened, the implications of Rosie's word's washed over Jack; she had known of what was happening and never said a word. Accomplice! The word screamed through his head and he took a step back towards the door, repelled by the knowledge of this revelation.

Rosie looked at him and the look of horror and disgust that was stained upon his countenance was frightening for her to see. She couldn't lose him now; he was all that stood between her and losing, at the very least her social standing. And jail a desperate voice inside her whispered. 

She had to make him understand and protect her. They could marry again, yes, they could and it would be alright.

"Jack," she said holding out a pleading hand. "Please, it's not what you think, I swear it."

"Then what exactly IS it, Rosie?" His voice was piercing, his words clipped, reminding Annabelle of someone shattering glass with a hammer. She could tell that Rosie had finally, utterly lost Jack. She stood to pull her sister back into the parlor since she had followed Jack into the foyer.

Rosie was speechless, realizing her mistake of admitting her knowledge of Sidney's activities. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves and said, "Jack, I - I didn't really understand what they were doing. I thought they were helping the girls, really I did. I didn't know they were- were selling them as…slaves," her voice trailed off as she raised her eyes hopefully to Jack.

Jack just shook his head, contempt darkening his eyes until they resembled blackened coal rather than their usual deep brown. Rosie made to rush to him again and he put out a hand to stop her. "NO, stay away from me. Annabelle, I must leave you now. I have to check on someone else." His eyes implored her understanding.

Annabelle gave him a brief nod and a very thin smile. No good was going to come of this. Jack would eventually do his duty, without a doubt which likely meant gaol for Rosie, if not hanging at the end of a noose. Rosie knew of the treachery, there was no getting past that.

"You're going to her, aren't you, Jack?" Her face once again bathed in tears and sorrow, however real they may or may not have been. "That woman! The whore of society who spreads her legs for any man. Do you think I don't know of her? Everyone does," she finished with a twisted laugh, desperation only a breath away.

"Yes, I'm going to Phryne," he told her, and his voice held a dangerous edge to it. It took everything he had not to reach out and grab her, to shake the filth out of her. He turned and exited the door and paid no mind to the scream he heard from her, the stream of obscenities that he wasn't aware she knew almost bringing him to his knees. The pain was nearly physical, stabbing him in his gut and taking away his breath as well. He forced himself to walk, to keep walking to the car, to leave this place.

He needed to see Phryne, as much as he needed air right now. Would she even want to see him, after what had happened at the police station? He didn't know but he had to find out.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Getting through the evening had been hell for Phryne, whose usually enthusiastic appreciation of anything wild and dangerous was wearing sorely on her spirits this night. In Jack's office George Sanderson had lied, denied and tried to bully his way out of the charges, but Jack held firm on bringing those allegations against his former father in law.

Outside Jack's office Rosie confronted her father, hammering the final nail in the proverbial coffin. Immediately as Collins lead the Commissioner to his cell Rosie fell into Jacks arms, sobbing hysterically. Phryne watched for a minute, as Jack moved to hold her, trying to calm her down. At first Phryne was pleased that Jack could be so caring with her and then something else started to intrude into her very exhausted head: A little feeling like pain or anger in the pit of her stomach. Certainly, it was not something she was used to. Why was she angry? Why did she suddenly feel so very alone?

Hugh returned from the cells and saw Miss Fisher watching Jack and his former wife, and noticed that she was very pale, except for two very red spots staining her cheeks. She also looked very tired, which was to be expected after all she'd been through. Bert and Cec had already taken Dottie home after giving their statements and he had finished his as well, placing it with the others in the file. He wasn't sure about Miss Fisher, but his compassion for her made him feel terribly guilty as he watched her, casting sideways glances at her, hoping that she didn't notice until he saw her turn abruptly and stride out the door as if she were being chased by something unseen. 

Hugh followed her and asked, "Um, Miss Fisher? May, um, I give you a ride home?" Hugh knew that Detective Inspector Robinson had planned on doing that but it didn't look like it was going to happen any time soon. He also knew that if he didn't try to take care of her Dottie would be very upset with him, a fate he would rather avoid at all costs.

Phryne looked at the young man, seeing the concern written all over his face. Hugh was a wonderful young man, perfect for Dot but innocence had not yet deserted him, in habit or the ability to hide his emotions. She cast another quick glance at the closed door to the precinct, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, knew that Jack was going to be occupied for a while. She refused to think it might be all night.

Husbands and wives, even former spouses shared a bond. Jack had, beneath the gruff and often times stern exterior a sterling heart that was, as she had said, 'as deep as the Pacific ocean'. He would want to help Rosie and she couldn't really hold that against him.

Could she?

If not then why did she feel so miserable?

"Thank you, Hugh. I should be very grateful for you to escort me home. Are you sure that it won't upset the Inspector?" she asked, not realizing that her voice was edged with frustration.

"I'm off duty now, Miss. I planned to stop and check on Dottie anyway."

"Very well then. Shall we go?" she inquired, as she slipped her arm through his.

"Certainly, Miss." 

Hugh led her to his car and opened the door for her, watching as she settled into the seat with a sigh. His car was old and certainly not of the quality of her Hispano Suiza but it got him around when he needed it to. It started with a loud grind that made his teeth grate, but at least it started.

Phryne was quiet most of the way to her home which wasn't far from the station. When the car came to a stop in front of her house she didn't wait for Hugh to come around and open her door, instead she chose to make a quick exit and headed straight for the front door.

Dot had heard Hugh's car pull up and rushed to the door, somewhat surprised to see her Miss ahead of Hugh. She stepped aside as Miss Fisher entered and cast a curious look at Hugh, her eyes asking a silent question. All she got from him was a slight shake of the head, telling her firmly 'not now'.

He bent down and gave Dottie a quick kiss on the cheek and then almost jumped when they heard the cry of a baby. Dot smiled and walked towards the parlor, Miss Fisher following behind.  
"Dot, what on earth?" Phryne exclaimed, a puzzled frown upon her face.

"It's Mary, Miss. She had the babe tonight. Mrs. Stanley helped, Mr. Butler said."

"Aunt Prudence?" she almost laughed. "I'm sure it was more like her giving directions with all the zealousness of a general!"

"No, Miss. She actually delivered the babe, all on her own. The doctor came by later and checked them both, Mary and the little babe. He's adorable, Miss. Come and see."

Hugh stood back, watching as Dottie and Miss Fisher looked at the babe, along with Mrs. Stanley. A new life, but right now all he could think of was the treachery of the events of this night. He felt heartsick, for the first time in many months.

Phryne peered at the babe, swaddled securely in a beautifully crocheted blanket, no doubt Dot's handiwork. At least he was quiet she noted and then said, "Are they always so red?"

Dot smiled as Mrs. Stanley assured her that they were and Dot couldn't help but wonder how her Miss could not be enthralled by the sweet little baby. She watched as Phryne left the room, heading towards the stairs.

Dot followed and asked, "Miss, are you hungry? Mr. Butler prepared and sliced a roast of beef for sandwiches and I could bring you a tray. That is if you're hungry, I mean."

"Yes, Dot, that would be lovely. But wait while I bathe before you bring it up, please?"

"Of course, Miss. Would you like me to run your bath for you?"

"No, thank you. Go and see your constable, I know he has been very concerned about you this evening."

Dot nodded and headed back into the parlor, smiling at the soft cooing sounds Hugh was making at the baby. That bodes well she decided. Yes, very well indeed.

As Phryne got half way up the stairs Prudence Stanley's voice halted her and she managed to hide her grimace before turning around to face her aunt.

"Phryne!" Aunt P called again, before Phryne could say a word.

"Hello, Aunt P. Busy evening I gather?" Phryne ventured, hiding most of the mocking tone from her aunt.

"I, well yes, it has been. Isn't he quite delightful, the little man?"

"Yes, positively delicious," Phryne stated, trying her best to exude enthusiasm. "Aunt P, I've had a horrible evening. I really need to get into a soothing bath. Please excuse me?" she asked, exasperation and weariness tingeing her voice. She hoped her aunt would be obliging and let her go peacefully.

"Yes, yes, I heard all about it from Miss Williams. Really, Phryne, the mishaps and danger you manage to get yourself into. And this time Miss Williams, Mr. Johnson and Mr. Yates were all in dire peril as well."

If Aunt P noticed that Phryne's foot was beginning to tap furiously on the stair tread she ignored it. Phryne took a deep breath and said, "Aunt P, did you need something before I go to have a bath?"

Prudence realized that she wasn't going to be able to engage her niece in a civilized conversation at this time and stated, "Why yes, I did want to tell you that Mr. Martin will be here in an hour or so to pick up myself, Mary and the babe. They are at this time preparing a room for Mary and the child."

Phryne raised a curious eyebrow at this news, relieved that Mr. Martin, her aunt's chauffer, would be here soon to take them all away. "Thank you for letting me know. I'm very tired and will be going to bed as soon as I've bathed and eaten so I likely won't see you before you leave. I'm sure you're very tired as well, Aunt P. Goodnight."

Phryne headed up the stairs feeling as if she'd trudged through a mired field, as she'd had to do many times in the war. At this point it was better to think about how worn-out she was than to let her thoughts stray to Jack and his former wife. Somehow Phryne felt afraid that the former wife would once again be calling Jack husband. The thought both angered and depressed her at the same time.

***

Hugh and Dot walked hand-in-hand to the kitchen after they had admired the baby. Both were lost in thoughts of the babes they would have, each of them thinking the other would be the ideal parent.

"Are you hungry?" Dot asked not even waiting for her constable to answer. He was always hungry, much like the Inspector. She and Miss Fisher had often chuckled about both of them, ready, willing and able to eat anything they could.

She pulled out the bread knife and started to slice bread for the sandwiches. "Now, Hugh Collins, tell me what is wrong with my Miss?"

Her voice had that ring of steel to it that demanded an answer and Hugh had already learned that when she asked something with that tone that he'd be well advised to answer. The problem was, he wasn't totally sure of the answer.

"Honestly, Dottie, I'm not exactly sure." He explained what had happened at the station and added, "I just don't get it."

"Hugh! She's obviously upset about the Inspector and his ex wife. She loves him, you know that."

He nodded. "He loves her too, I'd wager, but getting the two of them to admit it might never happen," he told her, shaking his head in frustration.

When the Inspector and Miss Fisher worked together they were happy. And when the inspector was happy, that made the station a much happier place and all the officers knew it. When they caught a case that Miss Fisher wasn't involved with the Inspector often was short of patience and full of grim looks he freely cast upon his constables. Yes, together was better, but easier said than done. The constables below Jack secretly had a bet going as to when the two would finally open up about the relationship they both claimed to be non-existent and thought to be invisible to others.

"You might have something there in the idea of locking them into a gaol cell, Hugh," she teased him with a small smile. They'd often laughed about the idea of that very thing, forcing the Inspector and Miss Fisher to talk.  
Hugh shuddered, knowing the outcome of such an action as that. "I don't know, Dottie, I just can't understand why they don't just admit their feelings."

Dottie shrugged, setting a plate of sandwiches down in front of her constable. "Seeing him with his ex wife must have hurt her. How could it not?"

"But Miss Sanderson is his ex wife, Dottie. How could that matter?" Hugh asked as he savored the delicious sandwich.

"Oh, Hugh," Dot said, rolling her eyes. "How can men be so stupid?"

Hugh just looked at her blankly. How indeed he thought, admitting to himself that he had no idea at all of what she meant.

***

Phryne sank down into the lavender-scented bath and inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her nerves a bit. She had an aching in the pit of her stomach, something quite different than she'd experienced before. She felt…unsettled by Jack's actions toward Rosie, sad and somehow abandoned. And that was utterly ridiculous she told herself. He was a grown man; she had no claims upon him, no right to be upset with his affections towards another woman, especially his former wife. 

Did she?

He was just helping Rosie, as anyone would do given the state of things for the other woman. Yes, that was it. He was just being courteous, that was all. Jack always did the correct thing and this was no different.  
So why did she feel so distressed? So alone? She hadn't lost anything after all.

Except she had, she realized. Her heart.

When had the tide turned for her? When had she discovered that she loved Jack Robinson? Loved him totally, with all her heart? There was no one moment she realized. It happened gradually, like a silken mist slipping over her heart until she felt it soar as she basked in his affection. He did love her, surely he did?

A shared look here and there, a brief touch that would melt her, it was all very subtle for her until she saw the pain in his eyes when he thought her dead in the auto crash. He wouldn't, didn't overtly admit his feelings but his actions spoke volumes. How had she not realized it before?

She'd always thought of them as a team, the best of teams actually. She'd meant what she had told him, what they did best together was solve crimes. She had finally admitted to herself that there was more to it than that. Together they made two halves a whole. She was a better person because of Jack; she'd like to believe he was a better person because of her as well. They balanced one another. The yin and yang, as Lin would have said.

For two years they'd played this mad game together; he generally annoyed with her interference and she taking great pleasure in that annoyance. After awhile it became less of a game; their work together became earnest and their bond grew.

When he had first told her about his marriage, she had accepted that he was off limits, in a sexual way that is. She respected him for what she felt was a caution to her and some of her antics and she did try harder to be a bit more circumspect with him. After she knew he had divorced things began to subtly change between them. The shared looks probed a bit deeper, the smiles came more readily to them, along with conversations that had nothing at all to do with cases.

Still, she had tried to keep some small spot of distance between them. For her own protection, she had been compelled to.

How did you forget the past, block it out? Rene had forever changed her; independence was her shield, her safety measure to make sure that her heart and soul never got trampled upon again.

Over the years she had realized that she never really loved Rene. She had idolized him, been madly infatuated with him at the time, but love? No, not that. She perhaps hadn't really known what that was until Jack Robinson came into her life, gently peeling back her layers, one at a time until he saw the real Phryne. And he didn't turn away when he did. 

That was love, her ability to still look him in the eyes, without shame for what she believed was an unbearable weakness, to need someone, to love someone. To trust that they wouldn't hurt, or judge or scorn you for whom you were. Jack accepted her as she was, even though she knew that it hurt him at times. 

Warwick Hamilton had been one of those times and Phryne had found it hard to meet his gaze as he realized the truth of the situation between her and Warwick. She didn't really like herself very much as she saw the shock in Jacks eyes, the hurt. Yet he hadn't judged her for it, only carried on, as he always did. 

Was it too late now? She drew her knees up in the quickly cooling water and rested her forehead there, sure that it was. Was it tears or dripping water that cascaded down her cheeks? Even she wasn't sure.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the positive response to the story, here and on my own site. Your kind words are always appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Should he knock on the door? There was still a light shining in Phryne's bedroom, surely she was up? 

But would she welcome him?

He couldn't be sure. His fingers continued to tap against the car as he debated with himself. He'd left her to find her own way home, after what had been a very traumatic night. He needed her…God, he needed her.

He felt in his pocket for the small box he always carried with him; a box with a future that would never be fulfilled. Still, there was comfort in it, a sense of steadiness and hope that he couldn't quite abandon. His fingers rubbed over the well-worn velvet in a motion they'd done a hundred times as he tried to steady himself.

For what seemed like the hundredth time tonight he relived the scene on the ship, when he had discovered that Phryne was onboard. It shouldn't have shocked him so; he knew it could likely happen, but the proof of her senseless actions nearly caused him to go crazy with fear. He'd looked at George Sanderson and hated, truly hated for the first time in his life. Bitter bile had risen in his throat, and he'd swallowed it back down as he fought the urge to vomit at Georges' smug words. 

He swallowed again unconsciously, trying to regain his composure. It was out of his hands now. He and Collins had been pulled from the case due to the people involved. The new, acting Chief Commissioner wanted both of them to keep their distance from it in fact. Jack was on leave for the next 6 days in an effort to keep him completely out of it. 

He had no intention of joining into what was sure to be a vicious and demoralizing case. Tomorrow, he'd let Chief Commissioner Matlock know of the possibility of Rosie's knowledge and walk away. For his own peace of mind he needed the distance.

He also needed to talk to Phryne, to explain. All of it, including what he'd discovered at Annabelle's. Would she listen? Would she care?

If he were being honest with himself, totally honest he needed that understanding. If she refused? He shook his head to clear that thought. He'd kept too much from her for far too long and now possibly it no longer mattered. Once again tonight he'd thought he had lost her. It could have gone so badly; if that ship had sailed with Phryne, Dot, Cec and Bert on it they would surely have been killed and disposed of when they were out to sea. She might never have known his feelings for her.

His love, he'd kept his love from the woman that meant more to him than his own life, his job, his world as he knew it. Without her life was colorless, untenable; it was life without sunshine, without the spark of vibrancy that she brought with her and filled him with such joy.  
He had no choice; he would take the chance.

***

Out of the bath Phryne dressed herself in a robe and headed downstairs, finding Dot in the kitchen, saying goodnight to Hugh.

"I'm sorry, Miss Phryne. I lost track of time. I'll make you a tray straight away," Dot almost stammered, ashamed that she'd been so wrapped up in Hugh that she'd not taken care of her Miss.

"That's quite alright, Dot," Phryne said with a wan smile. "If you'd just bring it up to my parlor when you're done?"

"Certainly, Miss. I won't be but a few minutes."

Phryne nodded and headed for the stairs when she heard a soft tapping on the window by the door. She hesitated for a moment before answering, only to find Jack there, looking unsure of himself. She stepped aside and as he entered she asked him about Rosie.

They talked quietly for a minute and she tried to reassure him that he did the right thing, as always.

"Not always," he said and started to move closer to her.

Her heart beat frantically, thumping as loudly as tympani and she was sure he could hear it. She struggled to take a breath, waiting for him; a touch, a word, anything. The moment was lost as Aunt P moved into the room, staring at Jack with a frown.

Jack felt frustration grind through him at Prudence Stanley's words. "It's very late, Inspector!"

He looked at Phryne and thought for just a moment something like sadness sparked in her beautiful eyes that looked to be a smoky gray right now. The truth was, he needed that glass of whiskey tonight. Well, morning actually because his watch told him that it was well after midnight. He really needed it; no, the truth was he needed Phryne. He needed to reassure himself that she was fine, that the events of the evening hadn't left her devastated. 

He needed to know if she'd accept his love; if she'd accept him.

After a few words to appease Mrs. Stanley, Jack headed towards the door. Phryne gave him a smile; a cover attempt at assuring him that she was okay. 

"Until our next murder investigation, Inspector."

"Yes, I look forward to it. The, um, investigation, not the murder," he replied, giving her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He turned to leave and then felt her small hand on his arm, staying his departure.

"Jack, come with me, upstairs to my private parlor. I - I would really like a drink. Please?"

"Miss Fisher, your aunt would not approve." His heart leapt at her overture, wanting to accept it, but knowing he shouldn't.

"Jack, I am a fully grown woman and this IS my house." She gave him a small attempt at a coquettish smile with a tilt of her head and added, "Come on, Jack. We can pretend we're adolescents sneaking off behind our parents back." She gave him a wink and he felt himself blush, something that embarrassed him greatly. He was a grown man, as he had told her that long ago day when he saw the painting of her.

He was a grown man!

He dipped his head low for a moment, an attempt to hide his reaction to her flirtatious words. The light banter was something he was used to with Phryne Fisher and yet right now it made him yearn for more than mere words. When he finally dared to lift his eyes to her she regarded him solemnly and extended her hand.

He contemplated his decision only for a moment before stepping away from the door, and closing it softly. She tugged lightly at his hand, which had been captured by hers. They made for the stairs, creeping as quietly as they could, both of them holding back smiles as they reached the first landing.

"PHRYNE!" Aunt Prudence exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

Phryne drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders before turning to look down at her aunt who stood with her arms folded over her considerable chest.

"Aunt P, Jack and I are going to have a nightcap, as is our custom after we've solved a case. As my main parlor is in use, we are going to my private parlor."   
Her eyes were like flints of steel as she stared down at her aunt. Jack's hand was still clutched in hers and she refused to let it go. If he felt the slight tremble in it he said nothing at all.

"Absolutely not. I forbid it," Aunt Prudence snapped angrily.

Rage seethed in Phryne, twisting her emotions until she found it difficult to breathe. "Forbid it, Aunt P? You forget, this is my home. I am above the age of majority and in any case you are not now and have never been my guardian. I'll do as I please." Her words were spoken quietly, but with a sharp edge of determination that Prudence Stanley knew would brook no interference.

"Phryne, the neighbors, his automobile is outside. It's not done, please girl, use your head."

Phryne bit back a retort about the neighbors and other visitors and finally said, "Goodnight, Aunt P." Her mouth tasted bitter from the confrontation and she longed even more for that drink, maybe more than one.

Prudence backed away, knowing that Phryne's mind was set. She finally mumbled, "Just consider the situation, Phryne, that's all I ask. I'll take my leave now."

Phryne nodded and turned to make her way to her bedroom, still holding tightly to Jack's hand. When she glanced down she realized just how tightly; her fingers were almost white from the hold. She tried to loosen it a bit as Jack walked with her quietly down the hall.

He knew exactly which rooms were hers, both from the night they caught a jewel thief and from a trip to her bathroom one day that had provided him with an opportunity to peek into her rooms. He'd stood still that day, staring at the painting of her, amazed how it captured his imagination. She was stunning, beyond beautiful and he'd almost held his breath for fear of someone catching him. When he realized how arousing the painting was he had reluctantly stepped away, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself before heading back down the stairs to her parlor.

Now, her door was open and a lamp emitted a soft, golden glow to the room. Jack couldn't help but glance quickly at the painting before turning away from it; that was a problem he didn't need to deal with tonight.

He stared at her as she walked away from him, heading towards a door at the other end of the room. The silk of her robe slipped sinuously over her body with a softly fluid rustle as she moved and he drew in a sharp breath as he saw how it clung to her small but delicious curves. He comprehended that the painting would not be the only danger this night. 

"Please, Jack, won't you take off your coat and be comfortable?" she asked softly.

There was nothing comforting about that at all Jack knew. He often thought of his coat as his shield, protecting and insulating him from the world around him. He thought it hid his inner self from other people except that Phryne had found a way in a long time ago. He sighed and took it off, shrugging out of it as if it were merely a feather instead of his armor. His suit jacket came next and he laid them both across a chair by her vanity table and followed her into the parlor.

Phryne watched as Jack shed his protective layer with a small smile and a raised eyebrow, knowing he used it to cloak himself from the world around him. He looked so tired, exactly the way she felt, but she needed some time with him this night. A drink? Yes, and she also wanted his company, his presence, his ability to calm her. She needed him now, as Rosie had earlier. 

A quiet knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and for a moment she thought her aunt was launching another attack before she heard Dot call out to her. With a sigh she told her companion to enter.

"Miss, I heard that the Inspector was here, so I brought extra food," Dottie stated, looking down at the floor.

"Yes, I'm sure you heard, and probably will hear even more before my aunt departs." She indicated that Dot should set the tray on the parlor table with a nod of her head.

Dot felt strangely embarrassed about the Inspector being in Miss Phryne's room for some reason. Mrs. Stanley had made it seem as if the whole world would come to an end while he was here and now that Dot had seen that he'd shed both overcoat and jacket, she felt a heated blush spread up over her neck and face. Suddenly Mrs. Stanley's word seemed like a prophecy; surely it was improper? It wasn't like her Miss hadn't had men in her private rooms before but this was the inspector, a man that Dot knew Phryne cared about - loved. It just didn't settle well; Dot wanted them to be together forever, not just for a night. What did Miss Phryne intend? 

"She, um, they have left already. I've locked up downstairs and if you don't need anything else, I'll be retiring, Miss." 

The air in the room seemed to lighten considerably at Dot's words and Phryne smiled as she said, "That's fine, Dot. I'll most likely sleep in tomorrow and so should you, after this night…"

Dot gave Phryne a quick nod but still couldn't bring herself to look at the Inspector and swiftly exited the room after setting the tray on the parlor table. The door closed softly but with a firm 'click' and they were alone.

"Are you hungry, Jack?"

"I, um, yes. I could eat," he told her, his eyes following her as she sat at the table and held out her hand to indicate that he should sit as well. Oddly enough, he wasn't really hungry, but it seemed a way to try to relax he decided.

Phryne poured them each the promised whiskey to go with their meal and she noticed that neither of them touched it. Perhaps later she thought as she fought the urge to down it and pour another. She needed to keep a clear head and so she focused on the food.

The meal passed quietly, each absorbed with their own thoughts; what they wanted to say, what they were afraid to say to one another. They weighed their feelings carefully, aware that any misstep at this time could dissolve what they had built together.

Was it better to remain silent? Both would be surprised to know that their thoughts mirrored the others perfectly. 

It was hard for Jack to even contemplate the idea of opening his emotions for her examination; he was a man who scrupulously kept his own council about matters of the heart. He had learned from example how carelessly his feelings could be trampled upon, even when owning his own part in that situation. Another person cannot understand your hopes or your hurts if you don't share them. Years ago he had, in a manner of speaking, closed up shop, and became a man whose passions stayed well hidden.

Except where Phryne Fisher was concerned. What had she done exactly? How? She had managed to uncover, unleash all his emotions until he now feared there was no holding them back if he wished to keep his sanity. Coquettish smiles and sultry looks had parleyed into eyes that peered deeply into his soul and seemed to approve of what they saw. He swallowed hard, whether in an attempt to hold back his emotions or simply to finish his sandwich was unknown to him.

Phryne saw the almost convulsive action of her table mate and followed with one of her own. What she was contemplating doing could very well change everything for them and perhaps not for the better. What if he couldn't handle it all, her feelings; didn't share them? What if he rejected her and walked away, preferring to keeps things strictly business between them?

The landscape before them was like a beach with no footprints on it. Each step they took would make the sand shift and despite what she hoped, those steps might only set them adrift and render them separate forever. 

She loved him; would he accept what she offered him? Could both of them live with it?

With her last bite she wiped her mouth with a fine linen napkin and looked at Jack who seemed to be finished as well. "Can I get you anything else?" she queried. At his negative acknowledgment she added, "I'll just go and return the tray downstairs; I won't be but a few minutes."

He watched her gather the tray and carry it out of the room before he allowed himself the opportunity to study this room more carefully. It was her private refuge he realized as he took in the photographs and other trinkets that were important to her. Even the furnishings seemed to be redolent of her style he thought, comfortable but with a certain flare of color that bespoke of the woman he loved. The sofa was vivid aquamarine satin brocade with rose colored threads throughout. It looked plush and comfortable, with several large pillows and a throw over the back that told of long, rainy afternoons curled in comfort upon it with a book. The bookcase on the far wall caught his eye; it was glass-fronted and he walked closer to it to survey some of the titles.

Well-worn copies of Anne of Green Gables, The Little Princess, David Copperfield and Peter Pan stared back at him and he smiled at the thought of a young Phryne reading the tales of adventure those books would have provided. He also spied what looked to be a new volume of Antony and Cleopatra, which brought a smile to his face. As he scanned further he realized that this was certainly her private area. His eyebrows rose a bit as he scanned the titles, Lady Chatterley's Lover, Fanny Hill, Erotica of the Far East and other volumes of known erotica. He was tempted to reach for the Kama Sutra, of which he had heard much and had never seen when his attention was drawn to the photographs that shared the shelves of the bookcase and the wall next to it.

A photograph of two people that must be her parents looked back at him. She looked very like her mother; the same eyes and cheekbones seemed to examine him through the glass frame. Another, older photo held a group sitting of a family near the pool at Prudence Stanley's home. Surely the young women in the photo couldn't be Prudence and Phryne's mother? Both were staring unsmilingly at the lens of the camera, as was normal for that time period but there was still almost a feeling of merriment in the photograph. The women's arms were linked and the familial resemblance between them was strong.   
Next to that was a photograph of four young women in what appeared to be the streets of Paris as the Arc de Triomphe was visible far in the background. As he gazed at it he realized that one of the young women was Phryne; her hair long and curling around her shoulders. There was no mistaking her smile either he knew. Next to her another young woman stared boldly at the camera, her smile as wide as Phryne's; surely that was Dr. Macmillan? This was a happy time in Phryne's life, apparently. Before Dubois perhaps, he wondered.

A lovely ornate silver frame held a beautiful picture of Jane, a wreath of flowers in her hair and Jack realized the picture must have been taken when she was one of the flower maidens. She cast a look over her shoulder, her smile wide and even though it was a photograph you could see the mischievous sparkle in her eye.

The last photograph to catch his eye was undoubtedly of a young Phryne and Janey, her sister. The girls looked to be about 10 and 8, Phryne with her dark hair and Janey with her light; they looked almost scared of the camera as the stood on a cobblestone street.

"That was Janey and me, taken about 1910 I believe. Not terribly photogenic was I?" she asked, attempting to hide the lump that rose in her throat as she'd spied him perusing her photographs.

Jack straightened immediately, aware that he'd been caught prying. "I'm sorry, Phryne. I was…" he trailed off.

"It's okay, Jack. If I minded, I wouldn't have left you in here." She glanced around the room and added, "My sanctuary, I suppose."

He nodded and stood looking at her, standing in the doorway looking so small and lost. He saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes and went to her to pull her to him in a long-awaited embrace. He felt her body tremble and heard a small sniffle as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

For a moment they stood, holding one another, each trying to just breathe in the other as emotions caught at them. A sob suddenly tore through Phryne and she said, "Jack, I made such a terrible mistake tonight. I should have listened to you. Dot, the boys, we could have all been killed. I could have lost you."

"Shh, Phryne. I've got you, love. You'll never lose me."

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Jack moved to the sofa and sat down, pulling Phryne onto his lap as he did so. He held her firmly in his arms, breathing in her scent which was redolent of lavender or some such flower. She felt small and fragile to him, and he silently scoffed at the last bit; Phryne was anything but fragile. Under normal situations anyway, but he realized this did not qualify as normal, no matter how you looked at it.

Phryne wasn't quite sure how it happened but she became aware that she was sitting on Jack's lap, as he sat on the sofa. She could definitely use a handkerchief, but none was within reach. She snuffled once again and tried to wipe the tears away from her cheeks as best she could. She muttered a "Damn" under her breath that brought a slight smile to Jack.

Finally, it couldn't be helped; she moved off his lap and went to her room to find something to take care of her needs. She must look a fright but that thought was only secondary to her need to blow her nose and that she refused to do in front of Jack.

When she had cleaned herself up a bit she walked back to the parlor and her dilemma struck her; she had very much enjoyed being on Jack's lap, being held by him but returning there was something quite different. Her eyes shifted from his lap to the seat beside him; which to take?

She finally settled next to him, her legs curled under her as she faced him. His arm was stretched along the back of the sofa and he seemed to be at ease, in a way she wished she could be.

The truth was, even though he looked it, Jack was anything but at ease. His striking eyes regarded her steadily as she settled next to him. He ached to pull her back to him, to wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly once again. He needed the solid reassurance of her warmth to calm him, bring him down off of the ledge he felt he'd been teetering upon.

The silence was roaring; anything but comfortable. He took a deep breath and said, "Phryne, I'm sorry about Rosie, earlier, I mean."

Her heart thumping madly, she told him, "It's okay, Jack. I do understand."

He nodded, uncertain if she truly meant it. "Really, I do," she said as she laid a soft hand on his arm. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to push away the memory of what had happened at Annabelle's. He looked down, unable to meet her eyes any longer as he tried to get his emotions under control. Suddenly the story poured out of him; he was unable to stop it and when he was finished with the tale he finally looked at her, meeting her eyes for the first time since he began.

The re-telling of the story had been revised; he'd never tell her what Rosie had said about her, the charges that had hurt him to hear. Even though exaggerated, there was a certain small truth to them; while usually discreet, he knew (more than he'd care to admit) that she had had her share of bed partners. 

"So, you're going to inform the police? That she might have known?"

"I have no choice, Phryne."

Phryne frowned, thinking about what he'd told her about the conversation at Annabelle's. "Jack, you said that Annabelle detested Sidney; perhaps she was just trying to make a point about him and her sister?" Even though Phryne trusted Jack's assessment of what had happened there was always the part of her that stood up for those who needed an advocate and perhaps Rosie did after all she'd been through.

He shook his head, "No, if it's even possibly true, the charges will need to be investigated." He sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his head back against the sofa, wishing to be done with it all. The satin felt cool and smooth against his head and neck and when he opened his eyes again he saw understanding and sympathy reflected in Phryne's.

She frowned a bit, as she digested his story. This wouldn't be easy for him; he might not love Rosie any longer but she'd been through a lot and this would cause even more problems for her. Still, if she had known…for the first time anger bubbled up in Phryne's heart. Those poor girls, being sold off like that. White gold, their fates would have been horrific. If anyone had known and didn't tell they deserved to hang as far as Phryne was concerned.

They were quiet for a moment and when Phryne met Jack's gaze again she saw it darken in a way that made her shift slightly in her seat. His hand reached out to cup her face and he ran his thumb over her cheekbone. She closed her eyes again for a moment, her lashes looking sooty as they rested upon her cheek as she tried to hide her response from him, to keep him from seeing the emotion that overtook her.

"Phryne, I love you. I thought I'd lost you again tonight and I can't let another chance go by without telling you how much you mean to me."

"Jack, I…"

"Please, Phryne, let me say this. I've loved you for so long and I've denied it, to myself and you as well. I'm afraid I'll push you away but…"

"Jack, please…" she interrupted again.

"…I have to risk it. If something happened to you, and I - I didn't take the chance I don't know what I'd do." Pain etched across his face, making him look even more vulnerable than before.

"If you'd just let me speak, Jack, you'll find out that I love you too."

His head snapped towards her as his eyebrows lifted slightly. Surely she hadn't just admitted that she loved him as well?

"Don't toy with me, Miss Fisher. I assure you that I am in no state to tolerate it."

Phryne pursed her lips slightly to keep a smile from tweaking up the corners of her generous mouth. It was funny in a way; how he always reverted to 'Miss Fisher' when he was trying to keep a distance between them.

"I assure you, Inspector, I have no intention of toying with you," she said softly, with an emphasis on Inspector. "Why is it so hard to believe that I might actually love you as well, Jack?"

Why was it so hard? Was it because he thought it unlikely that this irrepressible woman who was so intent on living to the extreme could actually love him, a person who was cautious almost to excessiveness? She exuded a curious delight in life with a zealousness that was intimidating to him. Perhaps the real question was why was it so hard for him to let go, at least a little bit. That one gaudy night that they'd not had; he'd been prepared that night to give that to her before they'd discovered Jane was missing. Why had it been so hard since then?

Time and time again he had witnessed the woman inside; the one who loved her extended family to a fault and who always fought for the underdog, even those two detested red-raggers who were slowly growing on him because no matter what, they were there for her, loyal to a fault, even tonight, risking their own lives to help her.

She loved others easily, embraced the very idea of love, of loving. Could she really love him?   
Be in love with him?

What could she possibly see to love in him? The question begged an answer so he asked it.   
The look of incredulous outrage that washed over her face almost took his breath away.

"Are you questioning my judgment, Inspector?" The words echoed hollowly in him, as they had the first time she'd spoken them.

He looked up into her eyes again and swallowed quickly, measuring his words carefully. He could have given a factious reply that would have been truthful, as he had before.

No, I'm questioning your taste in men, Miss Fisher  
.  
He'd spoken those words out of contempt for Lin Chung and if he'd admitted it, a bit of jealousy as well.

They were both different people now; time and their journeys together had changed them both. A heightened awareness of one another had honed their crime solving skills but it had also brought a better, a clearer understanding of one another and if there was one thing Jack understood about Phryne it was that she was a woman who knew what she wanted. 

And how to get it as well.

He had been prepared to fight for what he wanted. But perhaps he wouldn't have to.

***

Rosie poured herself another whiskey and then ran her fingertip over the cut facets in the lead crystal, a frown marring her face. She almost jumped and dropped the glass when Annabelle spoke behind her.

"Proud of yourself, Rosie? Or Sidney? How many lives have the two of you ruined this day?"   
The words with spoken with barely controlled vitriol and sounded particularly ugly, even to her. They definitely left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Rosie had always been the darling girl of the family. Her winning smile had won her approval from all fronts; what most people didn't know was that the smile was done with practiced calculation. Even their constable father couldn't tell when it was fake - but Annabelle could. Didn't sisters always know the other better?

Right now though, there was no smile on Rosie's face, Annabelle noted. She braced herself, knowing that a storm was ahead. 

"How dare they arrest Sidney, like…like some common criminal? And Jack shot him as well!" Rosie stated, her voice sounding brittle as shards of broken glass grinding together.

"He is a common criminal, Rosie or are you forgetting the kidnapping and imprisonment of those young girls? And what about our father? You've concern for him as well?"

"Father? Yes, yes of course," Rosie offered, realizing too late her lack of compassion for their father. 

"Yes, I can see how his indictment into this mess, via your darling Sidney, has you broken up, Rosie." The sharpness of her words made no impression on Rosie and Annabelle let out a long, irritable breath. She poured herself another drink and prepared to take it back to her bed; she had no intention of listening to Rosie sing the praises of Saint Sidney.

"He was only trying to help those girls, Annabelle." For a moment something dark slipped over her features, as she contemplated her words. "At least, I thought so. I believed them to be hired as servants, eager to start a new life elsewhere."

"Yes, I can see how you'd believe that," Annabelle said dryly, the sarcasm of the words totally lost on her sister.

"Why, yes, it's true. I'm sure it will all come out in the wash. In the meantime, I must smooth things over with Jack. I will go and see him tomorrow, make sure he understands it all."

Delusional, Annabelle decided. With a shake of her head, she exited the room, leaving Rosie to her plans and schemes. There was nothing she could do and at the present time, returning to her bed was the desired path. 

Rosie never noticed when her sister left the room. There were things to be done and she must start making plans!

***

It had been a very long and grueling night, what with the arrest of the former Chief Commissioner Sanderson. Hiram Matlock, the new Chief Commissioner sat back for a moment and expelled a deep breath, his hands itching for a cigar to hold but none were to be found here, in this office that was newly his.

He was the third Chief Commissioner appointed in less than 36 hours. The thought made little beads of sweat pop up on his bald head. He reached for his handkerchief to blot them away, and grimaced when he felt how damp it already was, from his previous attempts to keep himself dry.

He might have believed that Wilson Wells had been a regular patron of the Imperial Club. The man had never tried to hide his considerable absorption in the fairer sex; yes, Willie had always had an eye for the ladies. It shouldn't be such a surprise, and yet somehow it was. 

On the other hand, the knowledge of George Sanderson being a corrupt copper went against every instinct Hiram had. But the proof of it all was irrefutable; Sidney Fletcher had used incriminating evidence against Wilson Wells to have him removed from his position so that George could be put into the highest seat and look the other way when Sidney undertook less than legitimate business doings, such as selling young women into slavery. The very thought of the plight of those young girls left a horrific taste in Hiram's mouth. The poor young girls, he could only imagine what their fates would have been had Fletcher's plans been successful.

Hiram would have bet his last pound that George Sanderson was an upright copper. Some were now calling for Jack Robinson to be carefully watched as well. Jack, who was George's son in law, well, ex to be exact, and had been mentored by George for as long as he'd been on the force. 

Hiram didn't believe that for one minute the young man had been corrupted; his record spoke for itself. Jack had been determined to search the ship last night, even when George ordered him to walk away; the threat of dismissal never even made him hesitate for a moment. He'd done his duty, against the specific orders of his superior true, but he had been correct in doing so. It was all in the statements made by Constable Collins and the young man was unquestionably truthful in his account of the night's events  
.  
Still, Hiram knew that there would be those that watched Jack Robinson. The lady detective, Miss Fisher as well. Many of the men at Russell Street didn't like females interfering in the business of men and police work was strongly considered just that. Hiram himself was quite astounded by how well the pair, Miss Fisher and Jack Robinson worked together. It was hard to disregard their results, their very successful results. Yes, he'd keep an eye on the pair, as required and he might even have a bit of fun doing it.

***

The man sat on a hard and splintered wooden plank in City Gaol, holding his head in his hands. It would be fair to say that he was remorseful of his actions, but that was only because it had ruined his life. The ethics of his actions aside, he would have been a just and venerable Chief Commissioner; his oath to uphold the law was important to him, it's just that at times, the road you had to take to that was a bit of a crooked path. If it had worked out as planned, he would have been a memorable Chief Commissioner and not for the reasons that he was infamous for now. He could have worked around the machinations of Sidney Fletcher, turned a blind eye at times because there was so much more to occupy him, cleaning up this lustful and degenerate city had been his goal. He would have accomplished it, too.

His daughter, Rosie had always been able to wind him about her finger, much the same as a puppet, but she loved Fletcher and it did his heart good to see that, after all her struggles with Jack. The divorce had cost them all ranking in society, but the Fletcher name and money smoothed it all over and his darling girl was once again a princess amid the cream of society.  
He had done all in his power to make that happen. Fletcher had threatened to break her heart if he didn't concede to his plans and with the added boon of power, it was more than George could resist. George wasn't ignorant of the shadier side of his future son in law and god son; quite the opposite now after his recent dealings with the young man. Sidney Fletcher held cards that George was very much afraid of.

His head ached, as did his heart. How had it all gone so wrong? Jack, the righteous defender of the law, that's how. He should have known what would happen when Jack got involved, should have removed him from the situation, using whatever means were needed. And that Fisher woman; always pushing Jack, snooping into areas that didn't concern her, in essence disrupting Jack's judgment with her persuasive demands to meddle in police business. He'd seen how the situation lie between them, when he'd walked into Jack's office and caught them, her retying his necktie. He knew what was up with that, yes, he certainly did. Jack had been compromised by this willful woman of loose morals; they very idea saddened him.

He stared around him, at the other inmates of his holding cell. No sign of Fletcher or anyone from the ship either, probably done with the purpose of not letting them talk among themselves. He didn't believe that any of the other's in this cell had any idea who he was, for which he was thankful. Had they known, he was sure he'd be dead by now; criminals and coppers didn't mix, period.

If only the ache in his head would subside but it only grew more fierce. His vision was a bit blurry as well was his last thought as he fell forward, onto the dirty stone floor and lay quiet. Several of the other inmates noticed, but ignored him; the general opinion being that the mate couldn't hold his liquor. Basically, they didn't care; had they known who he really was, things might have been different.

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Phryne and Jack both stared into the other's eyes, searching for acceptance, truth, and the spark that made them one, two halves of a whole. Neither was disappointed as dark gray eyes, so deep they might have been brown met stunning blue ones. Jack's swept over the face of the woman he adored, his fingertips suddenly feeling the need to touch her. A strong hand reached to cup her face, the caress as delicate as an angel's wing. A thumb played lightly over her lips, devoid of the usual scarlet smear of lipstick and now just a glorious, lush peach tone that begged to be kissed.

As if reading his mind, Phryne said, "You know, Inspector, I believe that this would be an appropriate moment for a…kiss, perhaps?" She licked her lips lightly, as if in invitation and watched as he swallowed again as he contemplated her words.

He tilted his head a bit to the side and gave her the slightly lop-sided grin she adored. "A kiss, Miss Fisher? That's what you would demand of me now?" he teased.

"Well, it seems a simple enough goal, Inspector. We can go on from there," she suggested, the warmth of her breath teasing his ear.

Something briefly flickered in his eyes, something she couldn't quite decipher. He drew in a deep breath and looked down for a moment as if afraid of all she might read on his face.

The truth was, loving Phryne was easy, admitting it harder; the rest of it scared him senseless. Phryne's past brought lurid images of broken hearts strewn along behind her and he knew that he couldn't survive being one of them. Phryne was a shooting star amongst the heavens; he was Jack, a man whose feet were firmly planted in the earth.

Phryne moved to sit on his lap and he let out a shaky breath he hadn't been aware of holding. All thought left him as her head bent to him, her eyes searching his one last time, as their lips were poised only an inch apart. He was conscious of their mingled breaths, warm and moist between them and he knew his fate was sealed. His hand gently pulled her head down until their lips met, softly, almost tentatively blending together.

A shiver went through Phryne at the contact and for a moment confusion made her pause at this unexpected reaction to a kiss; to Jack's kiss. His lips were warm and tender, moving slowly, enticingly over hers before they deepened the kiss and she felt her lips part in response.

Jack drank her in, her sweetness, her desire. He stifled a groan as his tongue traced the outline of her lips and then dipped into the warmth of her mouth. He felt an almost electric charge go through him as her tongue met his, stroking with increased fervor until he finally broke apart from her, almost panting as he tried to catch his breath, to steady himself.

"Jack?" she questioned, clearly confused by his withdrawal. Her eyes searched his with concern. Had she done something wrong?

"Phryne, we…this…," he stumbled, seeking the right words. "I don't want to go too fast," he finally told her, his words all but a mumble.

"Too fast?" He detected a slight snicker in her tone. "Jack, we've had two years of foreplay for heaven's sake; there's nothing fast about this."

She pinned him with a determined look that told him clearly that she was resolved to win this battle. She smiled a deliciously seductive smile and bent her head to again capture his lips with the promise of more passion to come.

He let himself be carried away by the kiss, like a parched man at an oasis drinking his fill. The truth was that he would never get enough; not enough of her or her dizzying kisses that made him ache for her all the more. For a few minutes he let his fear absent itself and reveled in the exquisiteness that was Phryne Fisher.

When he realized that his body as well as his heart were reacting to her he abruptly stopped the kiss, pulling his mouth from hers all the while his body was screaming that it was madness to stop what they both wanted so badly. 

"Phryne, enough!" he pleaded only to have her seek his mouth again. "Miss Fisher! We have to discuss this before things go any farther."

Phryne arched an exquisite eyebrow to gaze upon him. "What is there to discuss, Jack? You want me, I want you; it's very simple."

"No, Miss Fisher, it is not simple at all!"

Her eyes narrowed as she let out an indignant huff of air. What was this about she wondered.

***

It was 3 in the morning when Hiram Matlock heard the telephone ring downstairs. A call at such an hour could only mean bad news and so he sat up in bed and reached for his robe, slipping it into place. 

"What on earth are you doing, Hiram?" Sylvia Matlock inquired as she focused on her husband who was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"The phone is ringing; I'm sure I'll be needed," he began, only to be interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.

Hiram slipped his feet into his slippers and made his way around the bed to answer the door.   
Simmons, their butler looked apologetic before speaking. "I'm sorry to disturb you sir, but you have a telephone call from City Gaol. They stated that it was urgent."

"Perfectly alright, Simmons. I'll take it. Please, go back to bed man, sorry you were disturbed."

Simmons nodded and shuffled sleepily down the stairs as Hiram followed. In the hallway he picked up the receiver and spoke into the phone and then listened intently.

"This is Senior Constable Morrison, sir. I'm sorry to wake you but there's been a bit of a problem here; George Sanderson has collapsed and has had to be taken to hospital. We don't know what is wrong, however he appeared to be unconscious."

Hiram rang a tired hand over his face and sighed. What next he wondered? "Thank you for calling. I'll go to hospital myself to see what is happening. Did you provide him with an armed escort, Morrison?"

"Certainly, sir. Four men accompanied him."

"Good. That will be all then. Goodnight," Hiram said as he settled the receiver into the cradle. 

He stood up and headed back upstairs to dress. He longed to crawl back into his bed but duty called and Hiram Matlock always did his duty.

***

Phryne shifted off of Jack's lap and tucked her knees up against her chest as she settled next to him. She wrapped her arms around her legs and fixed him with a curious stare. The move struck him as a curiously vulnerable pose.

"Would you care to tell me what is wrong, Jack?" Her words were spoken softly but Jack heard the tight control that made them sound almost brittle. He admired her restraint for a moment; he wasn't sure how to keep his own emotions in check.

He let his fingers play against the satiny fabric that covered the sofa and refused to meet her gaze. He felt as if his air was being choked off and he suddenly took a huge gulp of air and tried to clear his head.

"Jack, are you trying to tell me that there isn't any 'us'? That…that all of this meant nothing?"

"Of course not! Phryne, I love you. I accept you for who you are; but that is part of the problem you see."

Phryne thought back to another similar conversation between the two of them and her heart sunk, dropping down to her stomach. "So, once again you're giving me up?" she asked, incapable of hiding her fear as her teeth worried her lower lip.

"No, Phryne, no. You…we, it's just, we go about things differently. You've led a, busy, life shall we say? I've kept to myself mostly, so for me to enter into a situation such as this is a big step. Do you understand that?"

She nodded, gazing into his eyes and suddenly she did begin to understand what he was trying so hard not to say; the string of lovers that she'd had, always moving on after a dalliance or two. He was afraid of the same thing happening to him; it made sense. A year ago that might well have happened, but no longer. She hadn't had any true interest in other men for months. Jack wasn't only in her heart but her soul as well.

She took his hand, the one that was still rubbing absentmindedly along the back of the sofa and brought it to her lips, kissing his palm tenderly, a mere wisp of a kiss like the flutter of a butterfly wing. "Jack, you are the only man I desire to share my life or my bed with. To speak plainly, there will not be any others."

He looked up at her words and saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes and felt his own eyes sting a bit too. "I'm well aware you don't want a commitment, Phryne."

"That doesn't mean that I can't be faithful to you, Jack. Frankly, this is all new to me, this feeling of loving you. I'm quite sure I've never experienced it before and it makes me a bit, shall we say, insecure where you are concerned?"

Jack looked at her, puzzled by her last words. Phryne never seemed insecure about anything. He'd never known anyone more sure of themselves than this impossible, amazing woman. "How do I make you feel insecure?" 

"Jack, you completely and utterly intoxicate me with your mere presence; I don't always think straight when I'm with you. 

Jack gazed at her, surprise coloring his face and he cleared his throat in an effort to think for a moment. For Phryne to admit to being so vulnerable cast a whole new light on their situation and a spark of true optimism brought a gentle smile to his face. Had he had any doubts as to her feelings, this would have made them perfectly clear. He had believed her avowal of love, but understanding the depth of the emotion she felt finally started to help untwist the knots in his stomach.

He reached for her, pulling her back onto his lap as he claimed a kiss, it being all the sweeter because he knew now that they were at the beginning of something that would change them both and it felt right. For the first time in so many years it felt good to open himself to another person; the fact that she'd also been through so much made it even better. She understood him and allowed him those moments, those times when he just didn't have words. 

Phryne begun to work on his tie, trying to quickly unknot it so she could get it off. She tugged it finally and had it loose as she straddled him on his lap, deepening the kiss until they both felt breathless. Her body was pressed tightly to his and felt as if she couldn't get enough of him. She breathed in the scent that was pure Jack; something that reminded her of sunshine and freshly cut wood. Her lips swept down his exposed neck, planting kisses that made him almost delirious with desire. 

After a few minutes he pulled back and said, "Phryne, this isn't how I want this to happen."

She chuckled and bent to kiss him again. "This is the way it usually happens, Jack."

He wanted to break the kiss, to move her off of his lap and yet he felt intoxicated by her, the way their lips fit together perfectly, the way her small body fit next to his, her breasts pressed fully against his chest. He could feel her nipples through the thin silk of her robe and he fought himself to keep from surrendering to the desire, the need. He finally managed to pull his mouth away from hers with a comingled moan. 

"Jack?" she questioned, clearly confused by his actions.

"Phryne, I'm so tired; so are you. This isn't the time. We both need some rest."

"Well, Inspector, I'm thinking we can rest…afterwards…" she told him with a saucy grin.

"I'm serious, Phryne. I'm just not up for this right now." A lie. He'd just lied to her.

She looked down at the evidence she was pressing against. He shook his head and sighed. "Yes, you have aroused me;, I want you more than you could possibly know, Phryne but when I make love to you, I want you to remember it for the right reasons."

"What would those be, Jack?" she murmured against his neck.

He moved his lips to hers and whispered, "When I make love you, Phryne, you won't forget it. It's going to last…all…night…" He punctuated that statement with a searing kiss that left them both breathless.

"I do believe you will," she murmured, licking her lips.

"But for now, I need to go home, to sleep. I have a meeting with the Chief Commissioner at 9 in the morning."

"That's only a few hours away! How can they expect you to be there after this past nights events?" It didn't seem fair to her.

"Phryne, you know that the call of duty isn't always convenient. Commissioner Matlock and I have much to discuss about all this, as you well know," he said, referring to the problem of his ex wife.

She nodded, still not happy but willing to surrender this battle. "Alright, I understand that. But please don't leave, Jack. Stay here, with me."

"Phryne," he began, preparing for another battle.

"I'll behave, I promise." She stifled a yawn, whether real or counterfeit he wasn't quite sure. "I just don't want you to go; I want to have you next to me, Jack. Please?"

He knew he was in for a night of pure torture; how could it be anything but, lying next to her all night and not touching? How many nights had he lain at home in his solitary bed, wanting her, needing her? To have her next to him seemed an impossible dream and now he was placing restrictions on it as well. He was convinced that he had surely lost his mind when he agreed.

She left her robe on when she crawled into her bed and tried to give him a bit of privacy as he took off his shirt to uncover his singlet and his trousers, shoes and socks. That was a far as he dared let himself go but it felt like no safeguard at all, mostly because he needed protection from himself more than her. He was tempted to lie on top of the covers but since there was a definite chill out he climbed into the bed next to her, his body a study in tension and rigidity. A few deep breaths brought a bit of relaxation and finally he succumbed to the luxury of the bed itself, far more comfortable than any he'd ever lain in. 

"Jack?" she asked, her voice so quiet he has to strain just to hear it.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," she said and he was positive he heard a catch in her breath. It melted him. He rolled over and pulled her close to him, feeling how perfectly her body spooned against his.

She made no move to further the contact and soon he relaxed. Right before he drifted off to sleep he heard a soft snore and knew she was sleeping as well.

***

Hiram Matlock arrived at the hospital a few minutes after Rosie and Annabelle did. Rosie cast a malevolent look at him and raised her chin a bit as he offered his hand to her.

He spoke to Annabelle, a thoroughly sensible young woman who had the good grace to meet his inquiry their father.

"They aren't quite sure yet what is wrong. They are still examining him."

Hiram nodded and looked down the hall to where his 4 constables stood at attention, knowing their presence was purely superfluous. Hiram spoke to them and told them to wait in the foyer, that he'd let them know when they were needed again.

The women had seated themselves in what surely had to be the most uncomfortable chairs imaginable. Hiram couldn't understand why the hospital wasn't a bit more accommodating for people who had to wait endlessly for news of their loved ones. He stood looking out a window at the still dark streets below. An occasional automobile drove past but at this predawn hour it was mostly quiet on the streets of Melbourne.

A half an hour passed, during which time the ladies had shifted uncomfortably several times. Both of them looked wan and after the events of the night he couldn't find fault with that. Annabelle dabbed at her eyes several times with a handkerchief but was otherwise quiet. Finally a doctor came to speak to them, seeming surprised that the constables were no longer in the hallway.

"I'm afraid your father is suffering from apoplexy, an occlusion of a blood vessel in his brain."

"What does that mean, exactly? Will he recover successfully?" Annabelle asked.

"At this point we simply aren't sure. If he does recover he could lose a part of his brain function; the brain is still a bit of a mystery to us I'm afraid, but the kinds of issues associated with this are impaired motor functions, speech impediments, that sort of thing. Until he is conscious and we can test his abilities I cannot give you more information."

"But he will regain consciousness?" Annabelle asked hopefully.

The doctor met her steady gaze reluctantly and finally said, "I am not positive of that, no. He apparently was unconscious for a good deal of time before he was brought in to hospital. Be assured that we are doing everything we possibly can. It would be best if you went home; he'll certainly rest for a few hours more, at the very least."

Annabelle nodded; this was not good news at all but given what her father had done would he prefer this? She was startled from her thoughts when Rosie let out a shriek and ran towards Hiram Matlock, resentment and blame branding her face. 

"Your fault! All your fault. You'll pay for this you bastard," she spit at him, her body shaking until it collapsed, with Hiram catching her before she hit the floor. "Let go of me, don't touch me," she screamed, as Annabelle led her to a chair. 

"Do you have something to help calm her?" Hiram asked the doctor, who looked on with compassion in his eyes.

"Yes, certainly. I'll be back in soon."   
Annabelle looked at Hiram and the look almost broke his heart. Here was a woman, who was actually made of very stern stuff and she looked devastated. How could she not be? 

"Mrs. Barrington, what can I do to help you?"

Annabelle saw the sincerity in his eyes but she knew that this was an issue she had to deal with all on her own. "Nothing, thank you Commissioner Matlock. I'll just get her home. Perhaps you could send one of your constables to bring my driver? That would help." She gave him a weak smile and he nodded.

The doctor returned with a small bottle of laudanum and the instructions to give her a spoon of it when they were home and a promise to call as soon as any change occurred. Annabelle smiled and thanked him as their driver came to collect them. Annabelle decided that after she got Rosie home and into bed she would return to the hospital to be here with her father. It didn't feel right to let him be alone at this time.

Hiram and the doctor watched solemnly as they walked down the hall. Hiram cleared his throat and said, "I'll just leave one constable here at this time; you understand that he is a prisoner, so it is unavoidable?"

"Yes, I do understand. Please have him stay in the room and out of the way of the nurses as they check on the patient. We don't want others to be alarmed at the presence of a constable in the hospital."

"Of course, he'll be very unobtrusive, I assure you. You'll notify me of any changes in his condition?" At the doctors nod of agreement Hiram walked down to the foyer and spoke the men who waited there. "Meyer's, you'll stay for now. I'll send an officer to relieve you soon. The rest of you are released to return to your duties. Thank you."

The men dispersed and Hiram Matlock made his way back into the hospital, to set at the bedside of his old friend; a friend who had been highly valued and he couldn't help but wonder what on earth had happened to him. 

To be continued…

*NOTE* Apoplexy is what strokes were called at that time. The term 'stroke' became more commonly used later on.


	6. Chapter 6

A few minutes before the winter sun peeked over the horizon Chief Commissioner Matlock made his way to his car. His breath made little white, misty puffs in the chilled air and he pulled his coat a bit tighter around him as he walked.

He'd decided to head to Russell Street, to get an extra early start on his day. There was no shortage of tasks to accomplish ahead of him and for a moment he felt the full weight of his new position resting upon him. 

At the station he parked his car and headed towards the door, hurrying a bit when a wet rain started; he hoped it wouldn't freeze, but this was Melbourne in July, anything was possible. Inside he was surprised to see his very young and very eager constable, who was also his assistant already in the office.

"Sir? Commissioner Matlock, Sir. You're early," Constable Kevin Conrad stated, the startled look on his face quickly composed as he rushed to help the commissioner out of his heavy and damp overcoat and hat. 

"You're here quite early, Conrad?" Matlock said, more of a question than a fact.

"Um, yes sir. I have been organizing some of the files in your office, sir. Things that, um, Commissioner Sanderson was working on. I've put them in the file next to the desk so that you can review them."

Matlock didn't know whether to be alarmed that his assistant had been in the files or pleased that he was such an organized young man. He sighed and nodded, wondering what cases Sanderson had been involved with and if any of them would prove as troublesome as the Fletcher case.

In his office all evidence that George had been an occupant of this office, however briefly, had been removed, something else his assistant must have accomplished. He looked around at the bare walls, a depressing grayish green and held back a shudder. It was depressing and he decided that a new coat of paint, something a bit less foreboding was clearly called for. On the other hand, the huge mahogany desk was truly a piece of art; he ran his fingertips over the polished wood with a sigh of contentment.

Kevin Conrad watched as his new supervisor accessed the office and hoped he didn't find it lacking. Kevin had done his best to straighten it and make it habitable, plain as it was. "Sir, would you like some coffee or tea to start your morning?"

"Yes, I would indeed. Tea, please and if you can find some biscuits to go with it I shall be very grateful."

"Certainly, sir. I'm sure I can find some," he answered already heading out the door, closing it crisply behind him. In the outer chambers he called Constable Rittner over and said, "Rush to the bakery around the corner and get some biscuits for the Chief Commissioner's breakfast, quickly!" His voice held a tone that Rittner knew meant sooner rather than later, so he took off at a run to find the biscuits.

By the time that Kevin had made the tea and was debating what to include on the tray to accompany it, Rittner returned with a small wrapped parcel of biscuits. "You didn't say what kind, so I got several," Rittner offered.

Kevin gave him a terse nod, opening the packet and placing the assortment of cookies on a plate along with milk, sugar and lemon. He picked up the tray and carried it to the closed door of the office and balanced it carefully as he first knocked and then opened the door at the summons from within.

"Here you are, sir." He sat the tray down and waited for instructions from Matlock or a dismissal. Not sure if he'd done something wrong as the man remained silent he started to back away from the desk, fearing the worst.

"Thank you, Constable." Matlock observed the carefully arranged tray and a small smile crept over his face as he looked up at the young man. 

If Kevin was surprised by the gentle and polite thanks he evidently managed to hide it well. "Certainly, sir," was all he said before leaving the room. 

Apparently, things were going to be different here with Matlock in charge. Or so it seemed. Maybe this position wouldn't be as bad as he'd thought it might be.

As he ate his breakfast, he made a mental note to inform Constable Conrad that he took his tea black with no sugar. The artistic presentation of the condiments on the tray were rather pleasing, but a complete waste of space. He ate another biscuit absentmindedly as he finished looking over the files on his desk, deciding that this one was his favorite. It was some type of ginger biscuit and quite delicious. It complimented the tea superbly.

After trying to reach Jack at first his residence and then City South, Matlock played a hunch and had the operator ring Miss Phryne Fisher's residence. It was picked up quickly by someone identifying himself as Mr. Butler.

"This is Chief Commissioner Matlock. I would like to speak with Inspector Jack Robinson; is he in? It's an urgent matter." He saw from his watch that it wasn't quite 7 yet, but he felt it was important to speak to Jack about George Sanderson immediately.

Mr. Butler wasn't surprised in the slightest that the Inspector was there; he'd already spotted the Inspectors car parked in front of the house when he'd went to collect the morning news and milk. It had been a long time in coming, but it would be a blessing Tobias Butler decided. 

"Certainly, sir. I will get him now if you'd care to wait," he responded before setting the receiver down on the table. He knocked on the bedroom door softly, hesitant to wake his mistress, but was prepared to try again if needed.

He finally heard the Inspector answer, "Yes? What is it?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Inspector, but there is a Commissioner Matlock on the telephone for you; he says it is urgent."

Jack ran a tired hand down his face and said, "Yes, I'll be right there, Mr. Butler. Thank you."  
He heard Mr. Butler move away from the door and head down the stairs. Jack reached for his trousers and pulled them on, fastening them hastily. He decided to forego his shirt as it seemed unlikely that Miss Williams would be up this early, especially after the previous nights late bedtime.

"Jack?" Phryne asked, watching him walk towards the door. "What's wrong?"

He faced her for a moment and had to stifle a quick smile because she looked a combination of sleepy and seductive. Her hair was a tousle of curls and her dark, sooty lashes partially hid blue eyes that obviously didn't want to be open. 

"Just a phone call from the Commissioner, Phryne. Go back to sleep."

"He's calling you here?" she asked, sitting up in bed feeling extremely curious.

Jack shrugged his shoulders; he was a bit puzzled as well, but supposed he'd find out soon enough. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Phryne." As he turned he saw her sitting on the side of the bed, the edges of her robe spread apart showing a good expanse of creamy, white thigh. His eyes swept down to bare feet and back again and he had a sudden, very appreciative thought about the pleasure of spending the night with her. He cleared his throat and murmured, "I, um, I'll be back," and left the room immediately.

Phryne crossed her legs and let the top one swing back and forth as she thought about the site that Jack made in the morning. His hair, free of the pomade he used to keep his waves in check had been drooping over his forehead in the most enticing manner. She had longed to comb her fingers through those curls before kissing him, a thought she filed away for further exploration. In the meantime, she re-wrapped her robe around her and tied it securely and padded down the stairs to see what the Commissioner could possibly want at this time in the morning.

Or how he had known to look here for Jack. Curious.

Downstairs Jack was just finishing his call. Mr. Butler appeared and asked if he would like coffee or tea and some breakfast. Obviously he had overheard some of Jack's conversation and assumed that Jack was leaving, a thought that made her frown.

"Coffee would be very welcome, Mr. Butler. Thank you."

"Jack?" she asked as Mr. Butler disappeared back into the kitchen.

He turned to her and swept her from head to toe with eyes that still looked tired and no wonder; he'd only had 3 hours of sleep. She was gifted with a smile before he pulled her to him, pressing her body against his and thrilling at the feel of the soft silk over her tempting curves. He held her for a minute longer, just because he could; she was his Phryne now.

"The Commissioner has asked me to come in as soon as I can; George Sanderson was taken ill overnight and is in hospital. Commissioner Matlock has a lot to accomplish today and this will free up a bit of time for him."

"What happened to Sanderson?"

"He said the doctor said it was apoplexy; he's unconscious now."

"My goodness, this is a lot for Rosie and her sister to deal with, on top of everything else." Phryne couldn't help but wonder if Jack would try to console Rosie again. She hated that the thought made her feel vulnerable. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to soothe her fears.

Jack took her hand, entwining his fingers with hers and mounted the stairs, heading to the bedroom so he could finish getting dressed. She perched on the seat at her vanity table and watched with bright eyes as he pulled on sock and shoes, shirt, tie, waistcoat, suit jacket and finally overcoat. My goodness he wore so many layers, how on earth did he manage in the summer? She fanned herself with her hand for a moment, just thinking about it.

Jack walked over to her and pulled her up against him one more time before leaving. "You're coming back?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm coming back," he said, smiling at her and placing a kiss on her forehead before following it up with one for the tip of her nose, just because. 

She held him fiercely around the waist, not wanting to let him hurry off. "Must you go?"

"Yes, I need to go home and shower and change before my meeting. I promise you Miss Fisher, I will return." He gave her a slight wink that made her shiver for some unexpected reason.

"You know, Jack, you could actually keep clothing here, so this problem isn't an issue," she mentioned, trying to look innocent, all the while looking anything but.

He chuckled, deep in his throat and she could feel the very pleasant vibrations of it against her chest. She sighed in contentment for a moment, almost purring her pleasure at having him this close. 

"I suppose I could, yes," he told her, thinking about that idea. "Why don't we both think about it and we'll talk later, after I return?"

She pursed her lips together in a pout, unwilling to give up on the idea. "If you promise me that we will discuss it, Jack. I'm quite serious about the idea."

"So I gather," he said with another chuckle. "I must go; I've just got a moment now for that cup of coffee and as you know, Mr. Butler's coffee is not to be missed!"

One final kiss later he moved to the bedroom door and cast a quick look back at her, only to see that she dropped her robe and had crawled back into the bed, naked. He hastily shut his eyes and pulled the door closed behind him. That image would haunt him all morning, he knew.

At his house, his housekeeper Mrs. Mayton was not yet there. She usually worked later in the morning or afternoon. Since it was only him in the house there was little to do. Jack knew that it was wasted that he lived in this large house alone, but it was his grandmothers and he couldn't bear to sell it; not that the family would agree to that anyway, even though it was solely his. His older brother James inherited the house in Sydney, which was appropriate as that was where his job as a barrister was. His younger sister Amanda was granted the summer home, in Geelong and his sister Maude inherited his grandparent's property in Brisbane, near the sugar plantation. It all worked out quite well actually, with each grandchild getting the place that meant the most to them. Maude and her husband, Wesley ran the sugar plantation now and it was still a thriving business.

Most of the house in Parkville was closed off; simpler for Mrs. Mayton and him. She was getting up there in years, having been the faithful housekeeper for his grandparents since he was a child. There were advantages to that, for both of them but also detractors as well. She still insisted on calling him 'Master Jack', a term that made him smile but would prove a bit embarrassing when Phryne was introduced to her, he was sure. Mrs. Mayton was very opinionated at times as well; one couldn't always be sure as to how she would react or what she might say in any given situation. The elder woman was somewhat like a favored aunt, and like that aunt she told him what she thought, no matter what. That thought reminded him of Prudence Stanley and how much he dreaded his next encounter with her.

As he stepped into the very up-to-date shower he appreciated his grandparents forethought in keeping the house modernized. Built just before the turn of the century it was a charming Victorian but contained all the latest innovations as they had become available. With 5 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, current plumbing and electrical the house was more than comfortable. The rooms were spacious, as was the trend when the house was built; that was also one of the things that made Jack feel a bit sad because it all was wasted on him. 

Fifteen minutes later he was shaved, dry and dressed and wishing that he'd taken the time to eat the breakfast that Mr. Butler had offered. He peeked into the kitchen as saw that Mrs. Mayton had stored some scones in the pantry and took one to eat with a hastily brewed cup of tea. He must remember to find out what type of coffee Mr. Butler stocked because it was delicious and he found that it was a wonderful addition to his morning.

There was a good chance that many of his mornings could be spent at Miss Fisher's now; the thought both thrilled and frightened him. He wasn't sure he wanted to play house with Phryne, to live in sin as some people, probably most people would consider it. Breaking social mores was not something he was keen to do, especially as an officer of the law but he had told her he didn't want to change her and he'd meant that. He loved the woman that Phryne was; the wild side, the deeply caring side, all of her. But it might come at the expense of his own ideals and that was something that he needed to be sure he was ready for. 

He'd never really thought of himself as a conventional man; he'd had girlfriends and sex before he married Rosie. At university he'd been an adventurous man, a man who enjoyed the fairer sex. Not that he was any kind of Lothario, but he certainly hadn't gone to his marriage bed with no experience. Phryne had any number of lovers in her past and that didn't bother him as much as he might have expected it to; they both were adults and it was to be expected. 

But if that was true then why did the thought that this might be a casual affair on her part bother him so much? She had told him that she could be faithful to him and he believed her to be sincere. He believed that she loved him and he knew that he loved her. 

_Enough to marry her?_

Enough to marry her. There was the crux of the matter. Love her, respect her, but just live with her, no legal ties involved? It was hard for him to accept. But not impossible he acknowledged and the truth was, he wanted to be with her, no matter what.

***

City gaol wasn't the place the Sidney Fletcher wanted to claim as home, however temporary it might be but it was a place where gossip ran freer than water. Come to think of it, that wasn't really a good analogy because a man could die from being parched in here if it wasn't on the schedule for water to be provided. Still, gossip was rampant this morning concerning George Sanderson and that made Sidney extremely curious.

All the participants in the raid were being held in different cells; the police didn't want them to have any opportunity to collaborate on their stories. But word passes quickly from cell to cell and the news of the former police chief commissioner had spread like brush fire. Most of the jailed population was hoping for death because they held a grudge against the old man. True enough, he'd probably had a hand in many of their arrests and incarcerations. 

Sidney was George's godson; he'd known him all his life and the best part was that George had always had a soft-spot for him and had run interference for him with his parents and schools more than once. That didn't mean that the old man couldn't see through him; quite the contrary, he'd been able to see right through Sidney's schemes more often than was good for all concerned. This last one was no different but it was amazing what a little evidence can accomplish when getting someone on your side and making them capitulate to your needs. He'd had the old man right where he wanted him.

As much as George doted on him, the old man had been less than happy when he started stepping out with Rosie. George really was a straight arrow most of the time and had appreciated Jack Robinson as a son in law completely. Jack was always on the right side of the law, and could always be counted on to do the right thing. Poor Rosie had languished in that marriage, denied not only the material things she deserved, but eventually the emotional connection as well. 

It ate at him; he'd loved Rosie from the time they were children. She was his partner in crime, always up for whatever adventure they could find. When she had fallen in love with that insipid constable he'd tried to woo her to him, but ultimately George had his way and Rosie and Jack were united in marriage, basking in the old man's jubilation in what he saw as a perfect union.  
Jack Robinson hadn't deserved her, and ultimately couldn't keep her. It was easy for Sidney to step in this time; her marriage had left her lonely and vulnerable and she came to him willingly, joyfully. It thrilled Sidney; he'd finally gotten what he wanted and it also gave him a hold over the old man and made things much easier for him in Melbourne.

George had a secret, a big one, hidden far in the past but that didn't keep Sidney from discovering it. George could do nothing less than follow Sidney's direction. Not without rewards of his own though; Sidney had blackmailed the current Chief Commissioner to resign so that George could take his place. The former Chief Commissioner had a nasty little penchant for ladies at the Imperial Club and luckily, Madame Lyon had a habit of having her girls nip bits of information about customers that could be used if needed. Once Sidney had bribed a doorman to provide this box of information about the clientele it was smooth sailing. Wall was out, Sanderson was in. Making George an accomplice in the slave market for young, pure and fair-skinned young girls had been ridiculously easy and then he'd had no option but to help in the matter, an unwilling accomplice but an accomplice anyway.

Then Jack and that Fisher woman got involved. God, he should have shot her on the Pandarus when he had the chance. He could have but the thought of imprisoning her so that after they were out to sea she could be dumped overboard had been a fantasy; the only thing better would have been if he could have taken his time and his revenge on her. Little good they did, those thoughts; Jack had arrived, against Chief Commissioner Sanderson's direct orders, searching the ship and ultimately finding both Miss Fisher and the girls that he'd already paid for. That burnt more than anything! 

The smuggling would continue; there was more than one ship involved and Sidney wouldn't be in here much longer. He had accomplices that would take care of that, sooner rather than later he knew. And as soon as he got out of here he had two outstanding tasks to take care of - killing both Miss Fisher and Jack Robinson.

In the meantime, it might not be a bad thing if the old man died. Perhaps someone should make sure that was going to happen if it hadn’t already.

To be continued…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I have posted several chapters today in an effort to bring this site up to the same point where my site is. Please note that I post every Monday.**

Jack arrived at Russell Street a few minutes before 8 and headed directly up to the second floor where the administrative offices were. Constable Conrad stood up as Jack entered the Chief Commissioner's waiting area and welcomed the Inspector.

"I'll just let him know you're here, Inspector Robinson. Won't be a minute." 

Jack watched as the young man fairly flew to the door that didn't have a name on it. Hall's name had been scraped off but there hadn't been time to have Sanderson's painted on it. Jack took his hat off, turning it loosely in his hands as he waited for Constable Conrad to return. He didn't have long to wait.

"He'll see you now, Inspector," Conrad said, stepping aside so that Jack could enter the office.

Jack nodded and stepped through the doorway. Matlock smiled and said "Have a seat, Jack," at the same time that Conrad pulled the door closed. The solid 'click' sounded loud in the large office that was bare of any personal artifacts, due to the shifting of inhabitants Jack was sure. 

Hiram Matlock watched as the younger man appraised the bareness of the office and declared, "Quite ghastly, isn't it? Needs a coat of paint, something a little less institutional I believe."

Jack held back a smile and nodded, not quite hiding his thoughts. "That might help," he offered dryly. One corner of his mouth crept up just the tiniest bit and Matlock burst into booming  
laughter.

"Jack, good to see you. Sorry about the early morning call, but I felt sure you'd want to know about George."

"Yes, I'm glad you called, Sir. Is there any news?"

"Not yet. The doctors are supposed to let me know if anything changes. Apoplexy, bleeding into his brain, a very serious condition."

"It is," Jack agreed. "How…how are the girls taking it?" He knew that Matlock understood he meant Rosie and Annabelle.

"Annabelle is a trooper, as always; Rosie less so." Matlock tempered his comment about the younger Sanderson girl; Jack was already too involved with all the mess she had been a part of.

"I can imagine," Jack concurred. Rosie adored her father so between this and the problems Sidney Fletcher had been involved with he was sure she was feeling overwhelmed. And he was going to have to add another issue to the pot, something he wasn't really happy about. He quickly told Matlock about his conversation last night at Annabelle Barrington's home. Matlock listened quietly, his hands steepled in front of him as his elbows rested on the desk.

"Do you believe she knew? Annabelle is very critical of Sidney Fletcher," Matlock observed, as he mulled it over.

"I do believe she knew something, Sir. That the girls were on board, but not necessarily what was happening with them. She could have believed it all legitimate."

"But you're not quite sure of that either, are you, Jack?"

"No, not entirely," he said, an ache in his heart because he didn't want to believe that Rosie would be involved in such a thing. Also, her reaction to Sanderson at City South seemed to be very real, very desperate. "But Fletcher is a very good con man, Sir. I've no doubt he could make her believe whatever he chose to."

"I would agree with that. Since he's been a lad he's always been involved in some scheme or another. Did you know that I've known the Fletchers for many years?"

"Um, no, no I didn't know that."

"Prudence Stanley as well."

Jack's eyebrows lifted a bit, surprised at this information. He wanted to ask what the relationship was, but kept his question to himself. He didn't have long to wait to receive an answer.

"My wife Sylvia has known both families all her life and the ladies all serve on several councils and committee's together. She also knew Miss Fisher's mother," Matlock said and watched as Jack tried to hide his surprise. 

Jack knew little about Phryne's family, other than her Aunt Prudence. Of course, she knew next to nothing about his either, something that they were going to have to work on. He cleared his throat and asked, "Am I to presume that your wife knows Miss Fisher as well?" He wasn't sure if this might be a good thing or not.

"Why yes, she does. Of for goodness sake, Jack, don't look so alarmed. Sylvia adores Phryne, always has, since she was a child. She loves and approves of Phryne's approach to being a modern woman; says it's about time that society accepted the fact that women are more than housewives and breeding machines. We also knew the family during the whole mess with Murdoch Foyle and the loss of that poor child; I was a constable on the case in fact. Such a terrible thing for a family to go through," he finished sadly, his eyes reflecting the compassion he felt for the family.

Jack nodded, the movement a trifle jerky as he contemplated the upcoming hanging of Foyle. Phryne was determined to attend and he knew there would be no stopping her but he was very much afraid it would bring the tragedy back into focus for her. 

"Yes, well," Matlock said, determined to change the subject, not that the next one would be any easier. "Jack, the reason I wanted to speak to you is because I need you to be aware that there are some within the department who will be scrutinizing all that you do, for awhile at least. You were too closely connected to Sanderson and so for some, doubts may run high as to your loyalties or motives."

Jack opened his mouth to protest and Matlock raised a hand to silence him. "I know you are loyal, Jack. My god, you turned him in, disobeyed a direct order to stand down because you knew what was happening was wrong. That is proof irrefutable as far as I am concerned; a few others don't necessarily see it that way. Also, there is the question of Miss Fisher's involvement in police issues; that may cause more problems than the former issue."

Jack licked his lips and then pursed them together tightly as he considered what the Chief Commissioner had told him. The truth was, as much as it maddened him, how could he blame them, on either account? He'd have a long road ahead of him to prove himself because of his connection with George. The issue with Phryne however would be much harder.

His record for solving crimes had improved greatly due to her involvement. Yes, she was untrained but she also looked at things from a different perspective than a trained officer would and she had sources that often made Jack shudder in irritation or fear. There was little or nothing that she wouldn't do to get information, such as doing a feather fan dance in a gentlemen's club or leading a raid into a ship looking for abducted girls. She was irrepressible when it came to her determination in solving a crime and that had benefited Jack many a time. It had also caused numerous gray hairs and a heart that had all but stopped a few times in fear for her life.

He looked up suddenly when he realized that Matlock was watching him, apparently waiting for a response. "Thank you for informing me, Sir. I'll do my very best to not cause any issues regarding my loyalty to the force. And um, about Miss Fisher, I'll also try to keep her involvement to a minimum and it will certainly include maintaining confidentiality of official police information." He hoped this would appease the Chief Commissioner. Appeasing Phryne on this would be a much harder sell.

"Yes, I know you will and I'm sure that given a bit of time favor will return to you. Jack, I've known you since the days before the strike in '23 and I know what an excellent officer you are; nothing has been handed to you because of nepotism. You've earned your rank and better; I'm sure you know that. I also know of your desire to keep working cases, rather than move up the ranks. I understand that but you will not be able to avoid that forever, I hope you understand that?"

Of everything that Matlock had told him this was the most ominous threat of all; he had no desire to become an administrative officer, trapped behind a desk. He wanted to launch himself to his feet and pace the room, try to escape the feeling of panic that threatened to overwhelm him.

Matlock read the alarm on Jack's face and leaned back in his chair for a moment. If this was a test Jack had passed with flying colors; there was absolutely nothing to suggest that he had any intention of using all this to promote.

"Relax, Jack. That might not happen for a very long time. You are too valuable in your current position. On a somewhat lighter note, I wish you luck with your Miss Fisher because Prudence informs us that she practically considers herself a member of the Victorian Constabulary, but hates the uniforms." A teasing smile lifted the corners of his mouth for a moment and Jack let out a deep breath, knowing how true those words were.

"You have no idea just how true that is, Sir. Miss Fisher is enthusiastic about solving crimes, to say the least. But I'll do my best with her." There was a slightly joking tone in his words but he knew Phryne would not take this well at all.

"Good, good. Just do your best. Oh, and Sylvia wants you both to come to dinner next week; she says she'll call Miss Fisher to set it all up."

The words stunned Jack; it wasn't appropriate at all. His face betrayed his thoughts and Matlock added, "Jack, I know that's an unexpected invitation, but Sylvia is insistent. As I said, she adores Miss Fisher. It is not considered improper to socially see my subordinates, given if they are of the proper social classes And we both know Jack, despite your determination to eschew the social amenities that you are a part of those circles as is your Miss Fisher especially, who is a friend. Are you planning to marry the woman?" Matlock watched as Jack blushed brightly and lowered his eyes. Perhaps that comment was too forward but the best way to stem the constant stream of gossip about them would be if they married or at the very least, engaged. He explained those thoughts to Jack and waited for a response.

"I'm not sure…we've never discussed this…not together. She does have definite feelings about marriage though." His face told the rest of the story; that those feelings were not favorable.

"Yes, well. Enjoy your time off, Jack. The more distance you keep from this case the better for everyone concerned."

"Yes, Sir. Goodbye," Jack said as he left the office, feeling as if he'd been hammered to the ground. There was a great deal to speak to Phryne about; not any of it good.

***

Phryne had slept for another hour when she was awoken with an absolutely brilliant thought! They needed a family dinner tonight. She hurriedly dressed, performing only the most basic of ablutions and headed downstairs to find Dot so they could make plans.

"Miss?" Dot questioned, surprised to see her miss up at this relatively early hour. It was not yet quite 9 and Dot knew that she could count the times on one hand that Miss Fisher got out of bed this early without a particular reason. "Are you feeling alright, Miss?"

"Yes, Dot, I feel marvelous! And I have the most wonderful idea! I want to have a family dinner tonight, for all of us. You too, Mr. Butler," she added, knowing that he wouldn't consider himself to be a part of the family, a notion that Phryne sought to change. He was a crucial part of the family and she would be bereft without him.

"Of course, Miss," he stated, his thoughts already thinking of what was in the pantry for such a dinner.

As if reading his mind Phryne added, "We're dining out, Mr. B. Dot, I want Bert, Cec, Alice and the good doctor all invited. At first I thought about the Windsor Hotel for dinner but that can be a bit formal and stuffy and I want everyone to feel comfortable. Do you have any suggestions? Somewhere with a private dining area would be lovely."

Dot's face wore a frown as she mulled over options. Of the restaurants she knew, while they might be comfortable for her and the others, Miss Phryne would undoubtedly feel out of place in. Her fingers tapped on the table top as she continued to consider possibilities.

"Miss, I do believe I know of a place that would fit the circumstance and patrons perfectly," Mr. Butler stated.

"Do tell, Mr. B!"

"Haversham's I believe will be the perfect venue. They have an excellent menu and private dining rooms."

"Superb! Dot, I'll let you to make the reservations; for 9 shall we say?"

Dot nodded, mentally going over the nine people involved. "Miss, you said family? Is this to include Mrs. Stanley?"

Phryne sighed, it should she knew but they would be saved by the matron's disapproval of dining with 'riff-raff' since on Tuesday nights she hosted the Women's Gardening Society meeting. Tough luck, that, Phryne laughed to herself.

"I'm afraid Tuesday evenings finds her occupied with other matters. No, the guest list is you, Hugh, Mac, Mr. Butler, Bert, Cec, Alice, Jack and me. That should do it I believe."

A knock on the front door interrupted the planning. Phryne's eyebrows rose as she inquired, "Is it common to have visitors this early?"

"No, Miss," Dot said, curious as well.

A moment later Mr. Butler returned and said, "Miss, Mrs. Stanley is here. I've seated her in the parlor; would you like tea to be served?"

"Why don't you make it café au lait, also, some of those croissants I smell?" Phryne said, feeling hungry. "Dot, would you contact everyone and make the reservations please?"

"Certainly, Miss. I suspect that Bert and Cec will be here at any time; that's usual for them in the mornings."

"They come for breakfast, do they?" Phryne said with a laugh as she headed to the parlor. She already knew that they were usually here in the mornings but was glad to know that they'd surely be here soon. 

If Aunt Prudence was here so early it could only mean that she came to see if Jack was still here. Phryne wasn't sure she was ready for the coming conversation but she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, knowing it was inevitable.

"Aunt P, how lovely to see you so early in the morning," she declared. She smiled brightly and kissed her aunt on the check, breathing in the odor of the face powder that her aunt claimed she didn't use. 

Prudence eyed her niece cautiously; Phryne was entirely too congenial for such an early morning call. Prudence had hoped to find the Inspector still there so that she could make them both listen to reason about their keeping time together. It just wouldn't do; the Inspector was a fine man, an excellent one to have near when an unsavory situation arose, but he wasn't the proper type of man for her niece to be associated with. Phryne's father was a Baron; even though he may have come from less than idyllic circumstances, his rise to the rank of Baron changed all that. Phryne's mother, Penelope, Prudence's own dear sister came from the best of stock so it was essential that Phryne associate with the right kinds of people. The Inspector, however helpful and polite, was not the right type of people.

Granted, Jack Robinson certainly had his supporters; Sylvia Matlock often sang the young man's praises and insisted he had a very bright future with the Victorian Constabulary. Prudence had often thought that her niece seemed much less likely to involve herself with unsavory elements and attend less than savory events since the Inspector had come into her life. For that Prudence was grateful, but a romantic attachment between the two was simply unthinkable. Phryne and the Inspector must be made to see that!

Prudence had been somewhat surprised to see that the Inspectors automobile was not here this morning; a circumstance that provided her with a bit of hope that things perhaps hadn't gone too far between he and Phryne. Prudence considered it her sacred duty to stand in for her dear sister and make sure that her niece had the proper guidance that only someone of her own social standing could provide and so she had every intention to direct Phryne in her choices. 

"What brings you by so early this morning, Aunt P?" Phryne took a seat across from her aunt on the loveseat and settled in, crossing her legs as she waited for her aunt to speak. Prudence couldn't help but notice that Phryne's foot wiggled in irritation and a wiser person might have changed their mind about a lecture but Prudence wasn't adept at reading her nieces cues so she plunged ahead.

"Phryne, I wanted to speak with you about your, um, the Inspector. Surely you see that this would be an impossible situation?"

"Which situation are you referring to, Aunt P?"

"The situation that involves late night calls or overnight visits! Phryne, there can be no future in an alliance between you and the Inspector, you must see that?"

Mr. Butler entered the room at that moment with a tray, casting a look at Phryne as he did so. At her nod of approval he set the tray on the small table in front of Phryne and left the room. Phryne rose and pulled the doors shut behind him, leaving the two of them alone to speak in private, a situation that suddenly made Prudence nervous.

"Café Au Lait, Aunt P? And you simply must try one of Mr. Butler's croissants. They are perfection," Phryne said, not bothering to wait for an answer as she poured two cups of the creamy, delicious brew. She sat one cup on the table in front of her aunt and placed a croissant on a small plate and sat it next to the coffee before sitting back in her seat and watching her aunt, waiting for her to speak. 

It was an extremely uncomfortable silence. Prudence sipped her coffee, glad to have something to occupy her hands while she thought of how best to broach this difficult subject. 

"You were saying, Aunt Prudence?" Phryne prompted. Her eyes were like blue fire and Prudence felt suddenly taken aback. It hadn't occurred to her that Phryne might possibly have real feelings about for Inspector.

"Well, yes, Phryne. It's an unsuitable match, if that is the way in which you are leaning."

"Why would it be unsuitable? Supposing of course that I were so inclined."

"Well, his family of course? Do you know who these people are? For heaven's sake, Phryne, your father is a Baron!"

"Who was nothing but riff-raff, according to you, until his cousins died and left him the title."

"But he did have good familial connections; he just chose to live a different life until called to service for his title."

"What do you know about Jack's family connections? Has someone told you something?" Phryne was curious about this suddenly, only because they had never spoke of their families, in any detail. She didn't know who his parents were, but if they were dirt poor, living in Collingwood, she wouldn't care one tiny bit. 

"Well, I…I don't know but surely you must suspect a lack of connections, given his reluctance to speak of his family?"

The parlor doors opened suddenly and the man in question stood in the doorway, a look that could be classified as amusement on his handsome face. Phryne noted that he also looked extremely tired; there were dark circles under his eyes but she could also tell that he'd heard at least part of what her aunt had said and was entertained by it.

"You have questions about my family, Mrs. Stanley? What would you like to know?"

To be continued…


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday, although I believe it is Tuesday for some of you. As of today, the regular posting schedule starts, every Monday, unless otherwise noted. Things get a bit uncomfortable for Aunt P in this one; what will she do? I hope you enjoy today's chapter!
> 
> Also, on my site, http://winningphryne.blogspot.com/ I have update the Cast of Characters.

After Jack left Russell Street he decided to stop at the hospital, to check on George. His feelings about the man were complicated, to say the least. Jack would never forgive him for being willing to sacrifice not only Phryne but those girls as well, all for the betterment of his career. But there was also a part of Jack, a begrudging part to be sure but still there that owed a great deal to George; his career in fact. After the strike of '23 he might not have kept his position if not for George Sanderson.

It was snowing lightly in the gray early morning light, small, dry flakes that wouldn't stick around for long he knew from experience. Still, Jack paid close attention to the streets and the other, less experienced drivers he met on the road. At the hospital, he knew that it was too early for visitors, but his badge would get him in quickly enough he bargained, a thought that was rapidly proven true. As he entered the door to George's door, Constable Myers nodded to him and stepped aside with a polite nod.

Annabelle Barrington was sitting quietly by her father, holding his hand in hers and didn't hear him enter the room. Obviously lost in thought, she wiped a few tears from her eyes and Jack heard her choke back a sob. Jack stayed still, near the doorway and determined that he should go, rather than interrupt her solitary vigil when Annabelle looked over her shoulder and stood abruptly when she saw him.

"Jack," she managed to get out, clearing her throat in an effort to speak clearly. 

"Annabelle, I'm so sorry to intrude; I just wanted to check on him, on George."

"Yes, yes of course. Come in, Jack." She nodded to a second chair in the room and Jack took it, hesitantly, looking down for a moment before meeting her eyes.

"Any change?" he asked, already sure of the answer.

"No, none at all. I'm not quite sure if that is good or not. He'd hate this, you know."

Jack nodded, agreeing with her. He cast a quick glance at George, noting the extreme pallor and stillness of his body in repose. This wasn't really sleep, but Jack wasn't quite sure how to determine what it was. "I saw Matlock this morning; he told me that they aren't really sure what will happen with your father."

"Yes, that is true. "He…he may never wake up." 

Jack saw her lower lip quiver just the tiniest bit as she tried to control herself. What a hell of a mess that George had gotten himself pulled into. Frankly, Jack would never have believed that George would be a party to such deeds but power, or the desire for it had corrupted many an individual and apparently George had been susceptible. Or else Sidney Fletcher had something to hold over George's head for blackmail but Jack couldn't see that as a possibility. What could there be? George Sanderson was as straight and narrow as they came.

"How is Rosie? Matlock said she was practically hysterical this morning; considering everything that has happened it would be understandable." The words were rushed, a tiny effort to excuse Rosie's behavior if she had known what Fletcher was up to and a genuine conciliation if she didn't.

Annabelle stared at him for a moment, reading that message in his eyes. They'd known one another for 16 years and she had come to see a lot of what Jack kept from the world. Rosie never looked; had she done that their marriage might have survived but like a child, all she had wanted was the instantaneous satisfaction or appeasement of her most current desire. Taking the time to understand what her husband had been through was beyond her apparently.  
Annabelle had learned the lessons when John had came home from the war. Like Jack, he was a different man but Annabelle had stood by his side quietly and let him find his way, until he'd been ready to share his emotions about it all. Rosie hadn't understood the necessity of that; she wanted Jack to focus on moving ahead at work so that she could attain what she considered a better circle of friends, of social contacts. John and Annabelle had watched as Jack withdrew even more over the years, becoming a recluse for the most part, a move that had left Rosie out in the cold.

"When I left her she was sleeping; I gave her a large dose of laudanum so she should rest for awhile."

"You need rest as well, Annabelle."

She nodded, "Yes, I know but John will be here soon and I'll go home then. I…I just couldn't bear to leave him alone yet, Jack." Her pain-filled brown eyes seemed to ask for understanding and Jack smiled slightly, trying to grant her wish.

They sat quietly for a minute as Jack thought about John and Annabelle for a moment. He was happy that they seemed to have weathered the storm of war so well; in fact he was envious. He and John Barrington had been boyhood friends and had remained close over the years. Jack thought that the very sensible and unpretentious Annabelle was well suited to his old friend who had a quick smile and a kind heart.

"Jack?" Annabelle began, obviously shaking Jack out of a quiet thought. "About Rosie? She's very angry and I'm sure you'd do well to be advised of that. She needs to compose herself a bit and that might not be easy for her. If you can give her some time to do that?" Both of them knew that Jack wouldn't seek his former wife out and hopefully Rosie too would keep her distance.

"Yes, of course." He stood up and added, "I must take my leave now, Annabelle. You'll keep me informed of..of his progress?" Jack felt that wasn't the correct word but was at a loss for the right one. "And if there should be anything I can do?"

"Of course, Jack." She smiled at him, a slightly strained smile that tried to tell him she'd be okay. He stood there awkwardly for a moment longer before nodding again and leaving the room. He didn't stop walking until he reached his car in the parking lot.

A little more snow had fallen and Jack dusted the flakes off of the windows, thankful that it was light and not sticking. It didn't help that the bitterly cold wind blew the flakes around though and almost as soon as he'd brushed them off they were back. Sighing in frustration he started the car, hoping that it wouldn't snow any harder.

It wasn't a long drive to Phryne's home, but it was tedious going because of the snow. He took his time which gave him time to think about everything that had happened in the past 24 hours.  
He felt sad for Rosie; she'd lost almost everything in that small amount of time. More importantly, had she lost the innocence of deniability? Did she know what Fletcher was doing? It would be a bitter pill to swallow if she did he realized. Was Annabelle right and she knew what he'd been involved in? Jack's compassion for the woman who once been his wife felt a bit wobbly right now; he needed answers.

Most of all he needed Phryne Fisher; he needed her love, her strength. He needed to look into her beautiful eyes and lose himself for a little bit, after a few more hours of sleep that is. He imagined waking in her bed, pulling her tightly to him and breathing in the scent that was uniquely Phryne. For a moment he let his imagination take hold and until he almost crashed into a parked car. He shook himself free of the fantasy that involved Phryne naked in his arms.

How many nights had he lain awake in his bed and imagined what it would be like to love her, unrestrained? No longing, unrequited looks from under his lowered eyes of the brim of his hat. How he longed for her, even just her presence, being near her. Their after case drinks had at first just been a ritual of shared triumph but gradually, they became more personal, almost intimate at times. Their conversations began to become more about who they were as individuals and he realized that the more he knew, the better he loved her.

Still, they'd both kept quiet about much of their pasts. Both of them carried hidden parts of themselves; from war, from love. His talk with Matlock made him recognize the fact that he'd never shared much of anything about his family and he was close to them. He'd told them all about her; at first it had been nothing but frustrated sputtering about her interference in his cases. They'd laughed at the picture of her that he'd nipped when Collins had taken some when he'd actually considered arresting her. His mother had actually cried when he'd told her about Murdoch Foyle and how close Phryne had come to dying. Since his divorce they'd repeatedly urged him to court her, a notion he felt sure she'd laugh at. Phryne Fisher didn't court or step out with men; she smiled beguilingly, flirted dangerously and beckoned them. How did he fit in with that?

And yet somehow, he did. He'd won her love and it still made him feel a bit dizzy and amazed. Phryne Fisher was in love with him.

The thought brought an incredible smile to his face and a bit of a twinkle to his eye. He was a lucky man.

***

Sidney Fletcher waited expectantly in the cell; any time now he decided. His contacts wouldn't allow him to languish for long, not if they cherished their lives that is. Within an hour one of the gaol keeps called his name.

"Fletcher, yer gotcha visitor," the man called out. He was a middle-aged man, as gruff looking as most of the people sitting in the cells but his vivid blue eyes were reminiscent of ice, hard and cruel.

Fletcher stood and tried to brush the wrinkles out of his suit. A primitive gaol cell was no place for an expensive suit. He grimaced as he noted a small tear on one of pants legs and several loose threads as well. 

This pair's for the rubbish he decided. 

He followed the dirty and pungent man down several hallways and up a flight of stairs. He may have a disgusting job but surely the man could bathe, Sidney thought as he tried to cover his nose with a handkerchief. On and on they went, down one twisting hall after another until they stopped at a heavily bolted door. The man pulled a set of keys out of a large pocket and searched for one; upon finding it he used it to unlock the door. 

Pale light trickled into the doorway and Sidney saw a light layer of snow covering the cobblestones in the alley. Sidney shook the hand of Earl, his conspirator who had worked to get him out of gaol. "What was the deal?"

"A thousand pounds," the gaol keeper interjected, his hand out to receive his reward.

Sidney met Earl's eyes, who motioned the man and Sidney outside. "Deal is a deal. Got it out in the automobile," he told them, walking towards the black Ford.

The gaol keep, whose nickname was Butch looked hesitant for a moment. "I don want nobody seein' me," he whined  
.  
"It's all clear, we made sure of that," Earl said, a smile plastered on his face. It was meant to be reassuring and Sidney held back a laugh and the attempt at sincerity. 

Butch followed first checking right then left to make sure it was clear. Seeing no one, he waited by the Ford as Earl opened a door and reached for something inside. Before he had a chance to protest he'd been hit over the head with a hammer. Earl lifted his body and threw it in the backseat and then took the time to tie him securely and cover him with a blanket.

Sidney jumped into the passenger seat and pulled a hat down over his head. His nose wrinkled in distaste as Butch's rank odor filled the car. "Lord, does the man never bathe?"

"Sure, he's going to take a nice bath in the Yarra; that'll get the stench off of him," Earl laughed. "Where to, boss?"

"To the safe house so I can bathe and change. Then I've got an appointment; I'm going to help Miss Fisher and Jack Robinson meet their destiny.

Both of the men laughed. Sidney decided that this was going to be a good day after all.

***

Mr. Butler answered the door quickly when Jack knocked. As he stepped in he noticed that the doors to the parlor were closed which caused him to raise an eyebrow. Miss Williams was on the phone as he looked at Mr. Butler enquiringly, nodding towards the closed doors.

"Miss Fisher's aunt is visiting, Inspector," was the answer he got while shrugging out of his overcoat. Mr. Butler hung both coat and hat up as Jack stood by the doors, hesitating before entering. Perhaps it was family business and he shouldn't enter and finally decided that he'd see if he could find something to eat when he heard his name.

_"What do you know about Jack's family connections? Has someone told you something?" Phryne was curious about this suddenly, only because they had never spoke of their families, in any detail. She didn't know who his parents were, but if they were dirt poor, living in Collingwood, she wouldn't care one tiny bit._

_"Well, I…I don't know but surely you must suspect a lack of connections, given his reluctance to speak of his family?"_

The parlor doors opened suddenly and the man in question stood in the doorway, a look that could be classified as amusement on his handsome face. Phryne noted that he also looked extremely tired; there were dark circles under his eyes but she could also tell that he'd heard at least part of what her aunt had said and was entertained by it.

Never a time like the present Jack decided and opened the door. "You have questions about my family, Mrs. Stanley? What would you like to know?"

He entered the room after closing the doors again and walked to Phryne who had stood at his entrance. He kissed her on the cheek, a move that was calculated to scandalize Mrs. Stanley he thought with an inward grin. Catching the twinkle in Phryne's eye he decided that she enjoyed his ploy.

"Jack, have a seat," Phryne said, patting the loveseat next to her. Jack took the offered place and sat back, crossing his legs. "Would you like some coffee and croissants?" At his affirmative nod she went to the doors and called for Mr. Butler, asking for more coffee and croissants. A moment later she was back, sitting next to him as if it was the perfect place for her. She decided that it wasn't quite a pleasing as his lap but given the company it would have to do.

"Inspector, I wasn't aware that you were joining us," Prudence all but stammered, displeased to be caught out in her conversation with her niece. To further complicate matters, he looked perfectly at home here as well; the thought was not an agreeable one. Had she already waited too long for this conversation?

"And yet here I am," he said his voice and demeanor at his most charming. 

Phryne relaxed a bit more; this was a side of Jack seldom seen. It didn't seem unlikely at all that he could handle her aunt. He wasn't rude in the slightest but she had the feeling that he wasn't going to let Prudence Stanley intimidate him. She smiled herself, waiting to see what would happen next.

"You had questions about my family, I believe," Jack stated. "Where would you like me start? My parents perhaps?"

Aunt P took a sip of her café au lait, even though it was now cold. It gave her something to do for a moment while she pondered this new situation. How could she react favorably to what surely must be humble beginnings? Finally she said, "Yes, Inspector, please tell me about your family."

Truly, Prudence expected the worst but Phryne on the other hand sat in great anticipation of the answers. She really had no knowledge at all of Jack's family, other than that he had one. She knew he went to his parents for dinner at times, but other than that the slate was blank.

"My father is James Robinson; my mother's name is Elise Calder Robinson." He sat quietly as the information settled over Prudence. Phryne almost choked on a bite of her croissant. "Phryne, are you alright my dear?" he asked, his tone concerned.

She managed to heroically swallow the bite down and then dabbed at her lips with a napkin, in part to hide her smile. "Yes, I'm positively fine, Jack. Do go on." She couldn't hide the perky tone from her voice and certainly didn't want to. This was delicious information she decided.

"Your father is Justice James Robinson, of the Victoria Supreme Court?" Prudence asked, suddenly feeling very small indeed. If that were so then his wife, Jack's mother was from the Calder Sugar dynasty. Very rich and very prominent; how could the Robinsons, whom she knew socially allow their son to be a police officer? It simply left her speechless, flabbergasted in fact. And how dare they not inform her of the connection, when Prudence spoke of her niece and her involvement with the Inspector? It was simply rude!

"He is," Jack stated politely. "My elder brother, Jaime is a barrister, in Sydney. My sister Maude and her husband run the sugar company now that my grandparents have passed and my younger sister Amanda is widowed and lives here in Melbourne. Aunts? Uncles?"

"No, that is fine, Inspector." Prudence wasn't sure she could handle any more information at the moment.

Jack and Phryne watched as Prudence digested the news of Jack's family. Finally she wiped her mouth with the napkin and sat the cold cup of coffee on the table. "I really must be going," she said hastily  
.  
"Nothing else to say, Aunt P?" Phryne inquired softly.

"No, I really must be going. I need to check on Mary and the little man. Goodbye," she said, departing hastily.

Jack and Phryne watched her leave and soon heard the front door close. They looked at one another; Jack a bit nervously and Phryne with a wide grin.

"Well, that certainly quieted her. Good job that, Jack!" As an afterthought she added, "It is true then?" At his nod of assent she grinned from ear to ear. "I'm sure that set her on fire a bit actually. She never would have suspected such notable family. Nor did I! Really, Jack, why have you kept them hidden away? Are they hideous?"

He chuckled at her questions. He grinned and winked at her, prepared to tease her before getting to the point. "Absolutely! Positively deranged, all of them!" 

"Jack," she laughed, "I'm positive they're not. They have at least one perfectly wonderful son after all." She moved onto his lap and kissed him thoroughly before looking closely at the dark circles under his eyes and the almost tired droop to those eyes. "Inspector, I believe you need sleep before explaining your motivations for hiding your family from me."

It was delivered with a smile but Jack knew that she meant business; that he did in fact need to sleep and that she would have answers - later. He sighed and agreed, "You are right, Miss Fisher."

"No argument? No excuses? Is this my Jack speaking?"

"Yes, your Jack, Phryne. Only yours," he told her as he moved his lips to hers, claiming them in a deeply passionate kiss. He drank from her, thrilling to the feel of her curves that fit against him perfectly. 

Phryne shifted on his lap and felt something hard against her thigh. What on earth? Her hand crept down and felt the object of her discomfort.

Too late Jack realized what she was doing and tried to shift her focus with another kiss but Phryne was now on a mission to discover what was in his pocket. "Jack, what in the world?" she queried as her hand slid to his pocket and tried to work inside of it.

"Phryne, no! It's nothing," he said, but he knew that there was no dissuading her; her nimble fingers closed around the box and pulled it out.

She viewed a small, velvet box, a deep sapphire color; it was obviously old, with a few worn places on it leaving the underlying fabric bare. She flipped it open and stared at him, her mouth open in surprise.

"Jack?" Her breath caught in her throat. Surely it couldn't be.

To be continued…


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you visit my site at http://winningphryne.blogspot.com/ you'll find a picture of the ring!

Jack reached for the small box, trying unsuccessfully to take it from Phryne's fingers that held it tightly. "Phryne, it's not what you think."

"Well then, what exactly is it?"

He swallowed, hard and then cleared his throat in an effort to stall for a moment as he tried desperately to think of what to say to her. The ring was a symbol to him, of his love for her. Could he explain it without her being panicked by what she would surely deem a commitment? He had to try, he knew.

"It was my grandmother's ring actually. Before she died she gave it to me and told me to give it to my true love."

"And that wasn't Rosie?"

"No; my grandmother knew that all along actually. So I've carried it for the past year or so, Phryne. It's…it's a symbol of what I feel for you."

"True love?"

"Yes, true love. It's reassuring to me that I've found it."

"So you keep it hidden away in your pocket as if it were some lucky charm?" she asked, clearly puzzled by it all.

"Yes, exactly that. It makes me feel closer to you, I suppose. When I thought you were killed in the accident, it kept me from losing my mind on the drive to the scene. I know it's silly, Phryne, but it's the truth."

She pursed her lips as she examined the ring more closely. It was truly exquisite; a large oval cut emerald surrounded by diamonds in 24 ct gold she noted. "Your grandfather had excellent taste," she murmured with a small smile that somehow made her look angelic, an attribute he rarely ascribed to Miss Fisher.

"Yes," he stated simply, still wanting to tuck the ring away. It was humiliating in a way; she'd discovered a secret that he'd not been ready to share. Since he knew that she didn't believe in marriage he accepted that she'd never wear the ring. "He did," he agreed, reaching for the ring box again.

"A symbol, you say?"

"Yes. Now Miss Fisher, you've had your fun. May I have it back?"

"Not so quickly, Inspector," she said, again using his title since he'd had the impertinence to call her Miss Fisher again. She pulled the ring out of the velvet box and held it up to look at it a bit more closely. It really was stunning, in an old fashioned way, charming actually. And clearly, Jack placed a great deal of value to it, and not the monetary kind she knew.

She slid the rind onto her finger and looked at him, a daring look with a raised eyebrow. "I do believe I like this symbol, Jack," she said, watching his face carefully.

"Phryne, please," he said, believing that she was toying with him.

"Jack, if you were to offer this ring to me as a…symbol, I would be delighted to wear it." As he started to protest she continued, "I'm not being irreverent about the ring, Jack. Symbols have great meaning and power and I do believe in them. I don't know how I'll feel about marriage in the future, Jack but I'd be lucky and happy to wear this as a symbol of our love and growing relationship now."

His breath caught in his throat for a moment; he wasn't sure he'd heard her say what he thought she'd said. She wanted to wear the ring? She wanted to wear the ring now?

"I, um, I don't believe I heard you correctly. You would like to wear the ring?"

"Will it offend you if I do?"

"No, never."

"Then I'd like to - very much."

"Phryne, some people won't look at it the same way we do, you know."

The thought had occurred to her. There would be those who considered them engaged because of the ring. That might be a good thing in certain circles she knew, with Aunt Prudence and his position within the Victorian Constabulary as well.

"I know that, Jack, I accept that. We know the truth of it. I know that even though you are a very modern man in many ways, Jack, that underneath all that you still have definite ideas about relationships between men and women. But I need more time to come around to that. Can you give me that time?"

"Of course, yes," he told her and meant it. "All the time you need, Phryne." He looked serious and he was but his heart was filled with joy at the thought of her wearing his ring. He picked up her hand and kissed her palm and then turned her hand over and kissed the ring finger, trying to show her his feelings about it all. When he looked up into her face he saw tears glistening in her eyes. He probably had them too. That's what happens when dreams come true.

She held out her arm and admired the ring. "It really is beautiful, Jack. I will wear it proudly. But now, Detective Inspector, I believe it is time for you to sleep. You look worn out and we have plans for this evening."

He smirked, knowing what those plans were and delighted in the anticipation he felt.

"Not those plans, Jack!" she said, not bothering to hold back a merry laugh. "Well, those too, later, much later." She explained about the family dinner and he felt almost giddy; they would all notice the ring and that made him feel happier still. 

 

Maybe he wasn't quite as much the enlightened man as he wanted to be he thought with a grin.

"What is making you smile so cleverly, Jack?"

"Not a thing. Um, happiness I guess. Now, I do believe I need to be tucked into bed, don't you agree, Miss Fisher?" He laughed at her indignant huff. Still, she slid off of his lap and held out a hand, leading him up the stairs to the bedroom. 

If she teased him a bit, taking a good deal of time and 'accidental' brushes against him when she helped to undress him she figured that he deserved it. 

Miss Fisher, indeed!

***

It was a few minutes before 2 o'clock when Dot and Phryne sat in the dining room, talking about ideas for Dot and Hugh's wedding. Phryne was insistent on paying for the dress and the wedding celebration following. 

"Oh, Miss, that's too much. And Hugh and I don't want anything fancy," she insisted, hoping that her Miss would accept that.

"Nonsense, Dot. It isn't too much at all, no matter how simple or fancy you chose it to be. I just want it to be a day you'll remember with love and pride. It will only happen once you know!"

Talk swerved back to the wedding dress; Phryne was determined that they visit Salon Fleuri so that Dot could have her dress designed. Dot was not in favor of the idea, although she was reluctant to tell Miss Fisher exactly why, she found herself fumbling for words to say what was on her mind and not offend her Miss.

"Alright, Dottie, I can tell that something is bothering you a great deal. Tell me, now!" Phryne stated, her fingers tapping on the table top as she waited for the reply.

"Miss, please, I…" Dot foundered, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. Finally she took a deep breath and decided to just tell Miss Fisher the truth. "It's Madame Fleuri, Miss. She said I should know my style and that my style is a suit. She said I could be married or buried in a suit."

"And clearly you don't want to be married in a suit?" Phryne said, feeling relieved that Dot had finally told her what was wrong. As Dot vigorously nodded her head Phryne added, "So then you shall have the most beautiful dress of your dreams, Madame Fleuri be damned! Whatever you like, Dot. Perhaps the younger Miss Fleuri would be more helpful for your tastes?"

"Do you think that would be okay, Miss Fisher? Last time Miss Fleuri tried to help me but Madame Fleuri wouldn't let her."

"I shall make sure that you get exactly what you want, I promise," Phryne said, laying a reassuring hand on Dots, an encouraging smile on her face.

 

They both looked up started for a moment when they heard a knock at the front door. Mr. Butler hurried from the kitchen to answer it and Phryne and Dot both heard female voices, speaking quietly to Mr. Butler before he came back into the dining room to speak to Miss Fisher.

"Miss, there is a Mrs. Robinson and a Mrs. Markham here to speak with you and the Inspector. Shall I wake him?"

Phryne felt a bit perplexed for a moment; Mrs. Robinson? Surely that could only be Jack's mother. Goodness, news travels fast she decided as she stole a glance at the ring on her finger. Mr. Butler and Dot had both taken it in stride, neither asking anything about it but she'd caught them both smiling broadly. Most likely they believed that tonight was a celebration of an engagement, which of course wasn't true at all

Mr. Butler stood waiting expectantly for an answer and Phryne frowned for a moment, taking a deep breath before she answered. "No, not yet. Let him sleep a bit more. Did you show our guests to the parlor?" She knew the answer to the question already; Mr. Butler's impeccable manner's precluded any other action. At his nod she added, "Thank you, Mr. Butler. Would you please bring tea to the parlor while I greet our visitors?"

"Certainly, Miss. I won't be but a few minutes; the kettle is already on."

Phryne smiled, knowing that the kettle was always on it seemed. She stood, and smoothed down the dove gray slacks she wore today, wishing she had on a dress instead. Still the silk georgette blouse in varying shades of blue brought out the brightest blue in her eyes and made her look appealing, or so Jack had told her this morning. She rose and headed into the parlor, feeling a bit anxious, a feeling that was foreign to her. She laughed to herself that she'd never before had the occasion to meet prospective family before; she hoped that poise and intellect would stand her in good stead.

She entered the parlor and went to the women, offering her hand to the elder one first. "Hello, I'm Phryne Fisher. Welcome to my home." After she shook first one hand and then the other they each offered their names and as they all smiled, Phryne indicated they should sit down. 

"Mr. Butler will serve us tea in a few minutes, so please make yourselves comfortable."

When they were seated, Phryne smiled at them both, noting their apparent ease with a bit of surprise. Both were dressed in well-tailored clothing, following the current fashion trends. The younger one, Mrs. Markham had her hair cut into a short bob, much like Phryne's but the color was closer to Jack's and she noted the waves in it as well. So that must run in the family. She could see a bit of Jack in his sister but she could see more in his mother.

"Jack is sleeping right now; he had a very late night with our case and then was called to see Commissioner Matlock this morning before 7 am. I can have Mr. Butler wake him if it is important." Phryne thought that an incredibly foolish thing to say; why else would they be here if it were not important? For that matter, how did everyone seem to know that he was here? 

 

Mrs. Robinson was very impressed with the young woman before her. She was beautiful, but then Jack had told her that already so it was expected. Suddenly the emerald on Miss Fisher's finger caught her eye and she couldn't resist the smile that spread across her face. 

***

Jack awoke slowly, a smile on his face as he stretched in the bed. The sheets were the softest he'd ever felt and the bed itself was truly amazing. He kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, inhaling the sweet scent of Phryne that clung to the bed covers and wished that she was here with him. His imagination ran away with him for a few minutes as he plotted all the delightful things he planned to do with Miss Phryne Fisher and realized some of those thoughts might well get him arrested in some places.

 

Reluctantly he opened his eyes and saw that the draperies were still pulled closed, but that a pale light shown through the cracks where they didn't quite meet. A glance at the bedside clock told him it was 2 in the afternoon and he decided it was time to get out of the bed because there was a great deal to accomplish today. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed he thought of Phryne, wearing his ring and an excited ripple flowed through his body. Tonight, all the 'family' would see it and he couldn't feel happier about that.

Someone, whether it was Phryne or Mr. Butler had straightened and smoothed all the wrinkles out of his clothing that he had hastily tossed aside earlier as he did his best to entice Phryne to come lay in the bed with him. He knew that he had needed rest and so did she, but his body also knew what it wanted and it definitely wanted the delectable Miss Fisher. Two years was more than long enough to wait and a few more hours shouldn't make that much difference and yet somehow it felt as if it did. He stared down ruefully at that evidence right now and tried to change his thoughts to something a bit less erotic. 

 

Once he felt himself in control, he hurriedly dressed and headed down the stairs. At the bottom stairs he saw Mr. Butler leaving the parlor and greeted him.

"I have just served the ladies tea, Inspector. Would you care for some as well?" 

Jack nodded yes and inquired, "Ladies?"

"Yes, Sir."

Jack heard a voice he recognized and a brief moment of panic made his flatten himself against the wall next to the doorway. In a mere whisper he asked, "Is that my mother?"

Mr. Butler checked his smile as he affirmed, "It is, Inspector and your sister as well."

Jack tightly shut his eyes and let out a long breath. How did everyone find him here? "Thank you, Mr. Butler. I'll join the ladies." He wondered how long they had been there and how Phryne was handling the situation.

With great aplomb he saw if the smiles were anything to go by as he stepped through the door. She looked up, a radiant smile on her face as he entered the room and said, "Jack! I hope we didn't wake you? I've just been getting to know your mother and sister. You didn't tell me that they were both so beautiful!"

Jack smiled and bent to kiss first his mother and then his sister on the cheek, before sitting next to Phryne on the loveseat. He took her hand and if she felt a bit of a tremble in it she didn't acknowledge it.

"Mother, Amanda, what brings you here?" The unasked question, how did you know I was here hung in the air.

"We heard about George of course and we wanted to check on you, Jackie," Elise Robinson said. 

 

Phryne couldn't help but notice the slight pink flush that spread up his neck and face. She had to bite her tongue to keep from smiling; it was rare that Jack got so flustered.

"We know you thought a great deal of him, so we were worried about you. The papers said you are the one who arrested him." His sister smiled kindly at him, concern written on her face.

"I must admit that the whole thing has left me shocked and discouraged. I have looked up to him for so many years and I have a hard time believing he could be bought by Sidney Fletcher so easily. The proof however was irrefutable."

Both women nodded in sympathy as Mr. Butler entered the room again with another tray, this one carrying a cup and saucer for the tea and a small plate of sandwiches.

"Inspector, I took the liberty of providing you with some sandwiches; I thought you might be a bit peckish."

"Thank you, Mr. Butler, I am." He picked up one of the small triangles and observed, "My favorite, thank you again," he added with a smile before realizing that another bit of evidence that he was a regular in this household had just been revealed.

"Ham, cheese, mustard, pickle?"?Amanda teased. "You never could get enough of them, Jackie!"

Jack grinned, and finally shrugged his shoulders; so everyone knew, he couldn't help that. He decided to just enjoy his repast while the ladies continued to chat.

"Phryne, your trousers are positively divine, are the couture?" Amanda asked.

"No, prêt à porté actually," she said with a smile. "But don't tell Madame Fleuri, I'm afraid she might not make any more gowns for me." Both Robinson women laughed at that comment.

"We've never visited the sisters Fleuri; we heard that Simone Fleuri can be a bit haughty," Amanda added and then apologized for her rudeness.

"No, I'm not offended in the slightest. Simone can indeed be a bit arrogant but her sister Renee is very forward thinking and modern. Amanda, you should visit her sometime; tell her I sent you. Better yet, my companion Dot and I will be visiting soon to see about wedding dresses, why don't you join us?"

"Wedding dresses," the elder Mrs. Robinson asked, staring again at the ring and then at her son who practically choked on his sandwich.

"I'm sorry - wedding dresses for Dot, my companion; she is engaged to Jack's constable, Hugh Collins. The gown is my gift to her."

"Oh - I see," Elise finally said. 

"Jack and I haven't talked about that yet," Phryne said, hoping to smooth over the situation but knowing it would be difficult now due to her careless slip. "It's all fairly new to us."

"We just, um, this morning, Mother. Give us time," Jack told her gently. Both he and Phryne were studiously avoiding the word marriage, a fact that was noted by both women.

Jack had told them in the past of his fears concerning Phryne's inability to form a strong commitment to men; he'd shared what he knew of her father and Rene Dubois. In truth, Jack had shared a great deal about his Miss Fisher and his family knew that he loved her dearly. She had brought life back to him and for that they were prepared to love her dearly. Now she was wearing his grandmother's ring; surely that must mean something?

"Take all the time you need, darlings. You'll know when the time is right," Elise offered. "And Phryne, we'd love to visit Salon Fleuri with you. Will you call us and let us know when you plan to visit?"

"Certainly I will. Dot is going to make a reservation for us, Elise."

Jack noted that they were already on a given-name basis; just how much had he missed before he came downstairs.

"Well, Amanda my dear, we must rush off. We have an afternoon meeting with the Women's Political Association. Have you ever been, Phryne?"

"No, but I've heard a great deal about it. I would enjoy taking in a meeting sometime."

"Wonderful, we'll let you know the schedule when we go to the salon. Oh, Jackie, your brother is coming for the weekend. Can you believe the twins are going to be sixteen? We're celebrating their birthdays. Dinner on Sunday? And you as well, Phryne. You're family now, darling."

Before Jack could speak up Phryne said, "Of course, I'll be looking forward to it. What time?"

"Shall we say noon? James, Jack's father likes to have his dinner at 1 o'clock and then Jamie and his family will need to catch the train back to Sidney later in the afternoon. That should give us time to chat and get to know each other a bit more. James is looking forward to this immensely. He knows your aunt, Prudence Stanley."

"Oh dear! Please don't hold that against me," she told them with a laugh. "She really is a dear."

The echoing laugh told her that they got the joke, which made Phryne feel ever so much better. 

"Until Sunday, then?" Amanda asked, giving her brother a hug and another one for Phryne, which was followed by one from Elise. Phryne and Jack waved from the door as the women walked to the car that sat at the curb. Amanda climbed into the driver's seat and waved as the car pulled away.

"Your sister drives?" she asked, somewhat surprised.

"Yes, both of them and my mother as well. Father taught them all." Jack tried hard not to laugh at her shocked expression.

"So the Robinson men are somewhat enlightened?" Jack was of course, but she was a bit surprised that a Supreme Court justice would be so open-minded. Perhaps it was because of the job she mused.

"We are indeed, Miss Fisher," he told her, pulling her into his arms and pressing his lips against hers in the most delightful manner. She leaned into him, thrilling to the feel of his body against hers as anticipation washed over her, making her feel quite heady with desire. "I must admit however that the Robinson women do not drive with the reckless abandon of another woman I know," he teased.

She gave a small laugh that sounded musical to Jack's ears as she smoothed down his tie and then used it to pull his mouth down to hers again. "Abandon, Inspector? Probably. Reckless? Never…" she whispered against his lips. She felt his lips tweak upwards as he smiled before taking hers in a lingering kiss. 

She was molded against him, inflaming his desire for her; he needed her and he couldn't wait to make her his, to love her completely.

Another knock on the door broke them apart. Jack opened the door and stood speechless at the newest visitor. Phryne looked over his shoulder, her eyebrows raised in question.

_This should be interesting…_

To be continued…


	10. Chapter 10

Jack stared wordlessly at the women in the doorway. Phryne stepped around him and said, "Rosie, please come in."

Jack almost imperceptibly shook his head, whether in an attempt to deny her entry or shake off the momentary stupor that finding her on the doorstep caused him, he wasn't sure. His mouth opened and then closed with a snap and he resigned himself to dealing with whatever she had brought to them.

Phryne offered her hand, which Rosie studiously ignored as she stepped past both Phryne and Jack. 

"I need to speak to my husband - _alone_!" The last word was almost spat out and caused Phryne to take a step back, but her eyes narrowed as she prepared to tell Rosie to leave. Jack beat her to it.

"Rosie, I am not your husband any longer; you made that choice if I remember correctly. Now, please leave." The words were spoken with iron-clad civility, but there was no mistaking that he had no intention of allowing her behavior to continue.

"I will not! I must speak to you, Jack." Her words held an emphatic plea that both Phryne and Jack recognized. It was unlikely that she would just go away.

"Jack, perhaps you should speak with your _ex_ -wife so that she can be on her way." The quiet words brooked no resistance for Jack; he knew that tone and he knew also that the best way to get rid of Rosie was to find out what she wanted. 

"Very well, Rosie," he said, stepping aside and ushering her into the parlor. 

Rosie stepped past Phryne and then Jack, head held high, and although her face was terribly pale and her eyes red-rimmed, she seemed more in control of the situation than they did.

"Rosie, would you care for some tea?" Phryne asked.

"NO, she would not; she isn't staying that long," Jack stated, standing in the parlor now, hands planted on his hips in an unspoken demand for action.

"Very well, then," Phryne said, pulling the door closed behind her. When she turned around she saw Dot and Mr. Butler both standing in the dining room, questions clearly written on their faces.

"I don't know," she told them, wearing a frown on her normally good-natured face. She shrugged and went into the kitchen, Dot and Mr. Butler both following behind.

"It's been quite a day, hasn't it, Miss?" Dot said, setting out cups for tea as Mr. B put the kettle on.

"More than you could imagine," Phryne said, and couldn't help how curious she was about what was happening in the parlor.

 

***

 

"What do you want, Rosie?"

"Is that anyway to talk to your wife, Jack?" Rosie said, looking at him as she took a seat. He was angry, she could tell by the way his body stood ramrod straight. His eyes watched as she sat down and settled into the chair, and a look of resignation crossed his face. Her face took on a softer look as she said, "Please, Jack. I need your help."

He sighed and said, "Rosie, you are no longer my wife, a fact that I'm sure you haven't forgotten. Say what you have to say and then leave." He hated being so harsh but she seemed determined to make trouble and he found he hadn't a bit of patience for it.

"In the eyes of the church, we are still married, you know. They don't believe in divorce, Jack," she stated simply.

He stood silently, waiting for her to speak again. He thought it very convenient of her to think of such things when it suited her. When she wanted the divorce she seemed to forget that fact.

"Oh, alright," she said with a huff of annoyance, realizing that he wasn't going to say anything about her statement. "Jack, I need your protection now, the protection of our marriage. You must realize that I'm in a very precarious situation as far as society goes. Moving back into your house will allow me some time to recover a bit. Since we don't know what is going to happen with father, well, the support would be invaluable to me."

He couldn't believe her presumption; that she was ignoring their divorce, the divorce that she wanted to begin with was almost funny. Believing for a moment that he would agree to such a ridiculous ploy was pure foolishness. 

"No; now it's time for you to leave." He wasn't really such a cold-hearted bastard he told himself.

"Jack, be reasonable, please. It would only be for a short time, until things have settled down a bit." When she saw that her words had no impact on him she lowered her head, to hide her face a bit and told him, "Surely you wouldn't just cast me out? We were married for 16 years after all."

The years of their marriage sped through his brain; the good times early on and the worst times in later years. There was no love lost between them, no romantic love at all and hadn't been for many years. Of course he cared what happened to her, how could he not, but this was asking too much. He didn't want to have to toss her to the wolves because she would be eaten alive by them.

But could he cast her out alone now? A hard question to answer.

 

***

 

Earl drove slowly through the streets, trying hard not to attract any attention, especially of the constabulary type. At the safe house Sidney exited the automobile while Earl continued on with their cargo; Sidney decided it was none too soon because the stench that rolled off of the odious man was horrendous. 

Inside, after he bathed and ate, he decided to sleep for a few hours. The safe house wasn't luxurious, far from it. Certainly it was barely adequate he thought as he gazed at a bed that was covered in a rough textured coverlet that looked neither sufficiently warm nor comfortable. He took what comfort he could from the fact that it wasn't the gaol and that it was temporary as well. 

They had much to accomplish later in the evening, task's that would require careful planning and daring. He wanted to be at his best when he killed Phryne Fisher and Jack Robinson. By this time tomorrow he and Rosie would be out of Australia permanently and good riddance to it he decided. He'd been moving money and his seat of operations to Singapore for the past few years and it was all ready for them. Rosie would look beautiful swathed in the rich silks and jewels of the Orient. The thought left a smile on his face as he fell asleep.

When Earl returned to report that his mission was accomplished Sidney nodded approval. "I want you to go and keep an eye on Miss Fisher's residence to see what is going on there. But for god's sake, don't let them see you!" he cautioned.

Earl nodded and headed off to do the job for the boss. It'd be a nice quiet afternoon he thought with a coarse smile. Miss Fisher was a looker and maybe he'd get himself a good long look.

 

***

 

Phryne sipped nervously at the cup of tea that Dot had sat before her. It might as well have been brackish river water for all that she bothered to taste it; she was beside herself with curiosity about what was happening in the parlor. 

Both Dot and Mr. Butler continued to wonder about the ring on Miss Fisher's finger; it was a beautiful emerald and thus far she'd said nothing about it. Maybe it was the reason for the family dinner tonight Dot supposed, although she couldn't help but wonder about that because her Miss wasn't wearing the ring when she had Dot arrange the dinner this morning. 

Phryne's pensive attitude did not suit her at all. She didn't waste time worrying about things; she took action to solve whatever was bothering her. But this was beyond her abilities; whatever was going on in that parlor it was between Jack and his former wife.

It didn't bother her that he had aformer wife; they both had relationships in the past although admittedly hers were severely limited in duration. A small shiver crept up her spine at the thought of what might have happened if she'd stayed with Rene Dubois; she might have, at least for awhile had it not been for Mac and her other flat mates.

_1918_

_He made her feel as alive as the war had deadened her. Was there ever a war that left anyone feeling happy? Certainly not the women, who usually were the ones in the ambulance services taking care of the poor souls who were unfortunate enough to end up in their care. Or they waited at home, dreading each and every knock on their doors._

_Phryne was strong, she knew that, but days, weeks, eventually years of caring for them, a never ending, swirling miasma of pain and suffering ultimately made even the stoutest of hearts grow numb. If it didn't, you wouldn't survive it all Mac had told her. She knew that it was the truth, after holding the hand of hundreds of soldiers as they died, giving what comfort she could in their last moments of life, hoping that she had somehow made a difference in their last minutes._

_The ones that survived were profuse in their gratitude, and Phryne had received more than one marriage proposal from a young man who saw her as their personal angel. She smiled and tenderly rebuffed them, trying to let them know that since life went on that all those things that they were missing from home, all those people, would be waiting anxiously for their return from this thing they called war._

_War. The brutalization and perversion of life and all for what she wondered. Would it ever end? Would countries ever decide to just live peacefully among themselves, let their people be and encourage them to find a way to live with peace? It seemed an unlikely prospect as long as men continued to beat their chests like savages and claimed to be the supreme ones._

_But it had ended, thankfully; that war but Phryne felt sure that there would be another, sooner or later. The numbers showed that the death toll was 16 million people, mostly men but enough women and children caught in the wrong place at the wrong time to make that number horrific in the end. Armistice, lay down your arms they declared, it's over, now everyone can be at peace again. How was that supposed to happen? A seize fire referred to the guns, the militant hostilities; it had nothing to do with the state of mind that the population was left to deal with. Phryne was certain that she wasn't the only one who carried around ghastly emotional scars of it all._

_Paris after the war was magnificent; almost as if the war had never happened. People were desperate to put it behind them, live in the moment and Phryne and her friends were no different. None of them had much money, so Phryne and Mac shared a flat with two other girls from the ambulance unit. Claire and Blythe were the perfect girls to live with while all of them determined what to do. Phryne knew that she could write home, have money sent but perhaps she just needed this time, just for her, to help her forget the past few years._

_A stroke of luck helped her find Pierre and Veronique Sarcelle; posing as one of his models was a perfect diversion for her and even paid a bit of money, enough to allow her to live on anyway. It was a bit unnerving the first time she shed her clothing, however it was apparent quickly that the only woman that Pierre was interested in was Veronique; Phryne was only a body to be painted and so he did._

_Pierre was enthusiastic but he was also funny and Phryne enjoyed the hours spent with the Sarcelle's. He would spend days sketching onto a canvas only to scream in frustration and toss his hands in the air because he couldn't get her hand just so. Then he'd swish his charcoal over the canvas, cursing as he did so, an action that would usually cause a great deal of dialog between he and Veronique. At first Phryne couldn't understand much of their conversation at all and was convinced that he hated her, hated her body, but in time as she understood more she knew that wasn't the problem at all. Like many artists, Pierre was a perfectionist and when it wasn't just so, he grew angry with himself._

_Phryne spent many happy days and evenings with the Sarcelle's. Veronique would go to the vendre and bring back bread and fruit and rich red wine which would fortify their energies for the evenings._

_All that changed 3 months after she started modeling for Pierre. A friend of theirs came around to see them. Rene Dubois had been in the south of France for a year, learning about the Fauvist and Cubist style of painting with his friend Jacques Villion. The technique was a bold impressionist style that Rene loved and he came back determined to convert Pierre to it._

_As soon as he saw Phryne he considered himself in the presence of beauty itself. She took his breath away and he knew at once that he had to have her, as an artist and as a man._

_As much as he admired her, desired her, he kept his distance at first; she was Pierre's model and there are some things that a man must respect about his friend and taking his model was one of them. Still, belle un peu, his beautiful one, as he thought of her cast longing looks in his direction from time to time so to take the edge off he threw himself into his art, finally painting a fantastic mural in the new style on the wall at Café Anatole, much to the crowds appreciation and enthusiasm._

_She approached him then, after his magnificent performance, the desire and longing he saw reflected in her stunning blue eyes too much temptation to resist. They made love that night, glorious, soul-searing love! He would never be the same again; his heart would never soar higher than it did with her._

_He told her that, time after time, usually after he had chastised her for a seeming infraction of his ideals. He must be uppermost in her mind at all times! He only allowed her to continue her work with Pierre because of his long friendship with him. He demanded that only he, Rene Dubois fill her mind and heart._

_The more time they spent together the more Phryne saw through his machinations, his bravado; he was a scared and jealous man, and not just of her relationship with Pierre and Veronique. He was jealous of the talent that Pierre had, the sheer genius of his work, the way his brushstrokes made the paintings come to life. Phryne saw through his attempt at scorn for his old friends talent, saw straight through to the marrow of it and the venom and vitriol of it made her feel ill._

_Her friends had grown worried about her as she became more subdued and withdrawn from them, not understanding that even her friendships with them were being criticized by Rene.  
He resented her time with them, urging her to move in to his loft with him so that they could be together all the time. As the demands for obedience grew harsher, she grew more melancholy and fearful of what would happen between them._

_"Phryne, you must leave him!" Claire urged. "Seriously, the man grows more deranged daily."_

_"She's right, Phryne," Mac told her, worry filling her pale blue eyes. "Dear girl, this is not love, this is about possession." Mac knew that Phryne felt guilty because Rene claimed he loved her and could not live without her._

_She knew they were right, but how did she break away? She was positive he'd come after her and Pierre wasn't finished with the current painting of her; he claimed that it was the best he had ever done and she knew that she would spoil it if she left._

_The decision, when it came was easy. After practically dragging Phryne away from a session with Pierre, Rene staked his claim to her, vehemently. "You are MINE. Body, mind and soul," he told her. It wasn't enough that the fingers that held her face tightly dug in and caused pain, the final indignation came with a sharp slap to her face. He walked away without a backwards glance, likely expecting that she would follow obediently._

_As the pain, rage and finally determination took over, she knew that she had had enough.  
She ran for the flat as the tears that streaked her face cemented her resolve to get away. Out of breath, she practically ran up the 5 flights of stairs and threw open the door and closed it quickly, leaning against it as if to make sure he couldn't follow._

_Blythe and her lover, Michel was there as well as Mac. "What is wrong, mon cherie?" Michel asked, concern for her showing clearly in his face._

_"What has he done, now?" Mac asked and stepped close to her to eye her friend carefully.  
The impression of his hand was still faintly showing and Mac turned away with a cure. "Are you ready to get away now?" Her eyes dared Phryne to deny the truth._

_"I…I don't know how, I haven't enough centimes to get across town; how one earth could I get to England because if I stay here he will surely find me."_

_They all pooled their money; Mac was determined to accompany her to England, to her family. They found enough to cover the train fare, but the crossing was out of the question. After a few minutes of debate Michel came up with a solution; his cousin was a fisherman in Escalles. There was no phone for him but Michel would write a note to him that the girls would deliver; Michel was sure that he would help them._

_Claire came home as Mac and Phryne were hurriedly throwing clothes into a valise. When she was told what was happening she added a bit of money to the pot, for food or whatever they might need she told them._

_Phryne wrote a note to Pierre and Veronique but found that her words were terribly inadequate to express her guilt for leaving so suddenly and her gratitude for their friendship. Several of her tears marred the surface of the note, but there wasn't time to do it over. Claire promised her that she would personally take it to Pierre and Veronique and they all promised to not tell Rene where she had gone._

_It worried Phryne a great deal, what might happen when he discovered she had left him. He could be vengeful she knew and she worried what he would do to her friends. Michel promised her that all would be well and she could only hope that he understood the dangers._

_The train to Escalles took almost 4 hours and then another 2 until they found Alain Leclere. He was a weathered fisherman, older than his cousin Michel and a bit grizzled in looks. But he had very kind eyes and after he read the note from Michel he nodded and agreed to take them to Folkstone across the channel where they should be able to reach her parents._

_"Merci, monsieur Leclere. Merci beau coup." Phryne barely managed to choke the words out, so overcome with gratitude for the man's kindness._

_" Non, ce n'est pas un problème un peu," he told her. The girl was still shaking from the encounter with the monster who had struck her. It was no problem for him to help her he decided._

_Crossing the channel went quickly and when they reached Folkstone, Phryne again thanked him for his help. As he watched them go he shook his head, saying a small prayer that God would be with them and get them to safety._

_The crossing gave Phryne a chance to think, to decide her destiny perhaps. She had been victimized as a child by her father, usually in one of his drunken stupors but too often to ignore. Being locked in a closet, complete darkness surrounding her had scared her witless at times. He had told her many a time that it was for her own good, that her attitude must change. Even though she feared the dark, it also strengthened her resolve to not let herself be victimized and for a while, Rene made her forget that._

_Never again, she decided. No man would ever make her do something that she didn't want to do; no man would ever own her again._

_Mac watched as Phryne found herself on that journey; the resolve to take charge of her own destiny in her friend was miraculous to observe._

Phryne took a sip of her now cold tea and wondered how long she had been lost in the past. The past had a lot to teach a person if you only listened. She only hoped that Jack remembered and was listening.

To be continued…


	11. Chapter 11

Jack cleared his throat and felt an urge to tug at his collar; for a moment he felt a bit breathless as he contemplated Rosie's request.

Sixteen years they'd been together; that many years built a deep relationship between two people. The insular perspective of it made her request all the more desperate. The good and the bad, they'd both been a party to it all and he couldn't forget that. She was willing, or possibly hopeful that they could move past the bad for the benefit of the future; her future, that is.

His deeply rooted introspection of how he had failed her came raging through his conscience; how he'd firmly built a wall to separate them. It had been a wall meant to protect her from the pain he lived and relived almost daily but it had done more than that, it had torn them apart.

John had told him once that had there ever been substance to their marriage that it would have weathered the storm, but whether or not that was true, Jack never found out. Rosie turned increasingly to others for support and comfort, to Sidney Fletcher and that set. At the time he didn't feel as if he could blame her; they were lively, full of fun, everything that had deserted him. He'd watched as she partook of various social engagements with little concern; perhaps even a bit of relief for her having found something that she delighted in.

The time came of course when he realized that Sidney was more than just a friend to her. He felt sure that there had been no intimacy between them, other than of shared interests and a common background but the longing looks shared between them spoke of a desire greater than friendship. When she asked for a divorce, he first felt devastated and then realized it was the best for all concerned. 

Was it because Miss Fisher was by then already irritating him to the point that he sometimes couldn't see straight? Possibly, he admitted, in fact likely. The annoyance brought him to life in a way and he'd felt the layers of his frozen being begin to thaw.

He and Phryne, he felt as if he'd waited a lifetime for her. Had anyone ever understood him as she did and still loved him? The dark, secret painful parts he had buried away all seemed to matter little to her and more and more to him as well. She had helped him to heal; mutual pain, a common reference for them made it all seem to fade away. If he helped Rosie as she asked, he'd lose all that.

Rosie watched as Jack's thoughts took hold of him; she knew him well and understood that he was letting the past grip him painfully. She felt a bit guilty about it; while playing house with Jack wasn't what she really wanted, it would provide her with the ability to get her life together again.  
If only Sidney would have been completely honest about what he was doing! That would have made her walk away from him. Wouldn't it? She didn't know; she loved him dearly, he meant the world to her. He'd told her the girls were all to be servants, that he'd bought their indentures, even though it was no longer a common practice. She hadn't really liked that, but he told her the girls would at least have chances at better lives than if they stayed in the convent. But slaves? Never would she have supported that. Especially if they were to be sex slaves, as it seemed to be indicated. How could he?

How could her father have allowed it? She didn't understand and it all sickened her. Because of what he'd done, her former husband was a bit of a hero to her she acknowledged. She looked at him again, into his eyes and realized he'd made a decision; one she wasn't going to like.

"Rosie, I can't let you move into the house, you know that don't you? It's not right."

"Because of Miss Fisher, I suppose?"

"No, not that," he told her and then amended, "Not only that."

"Don't be coy, Jack. I saw the ring on her finger; your grandmother's ring, the one you never gave to me." Her eyes blazed with hurt indignation.

It would do little good to explain the circumstances of the ring to her; she'd never accept that. How could she when he hoped that in time, Phryne would regard it as an engagement ring as well?  
Instead, he spoke softly and said, "I'm not being coy, Rosie. Phryne is my future; you and I, we shared a past, it's true but it is a past filled with pain, for both of us. I can't go back there."

The sincerity of his words stabbed at her, causing her to take in a deep, painful breath. It was true and she could do nothing but acknowledge that. She nodded at him and turned her head for a moment in an effort to keep him from seeing her tears.

"Rosie, why not go to your aunt and uncles in England? You have cousins there, family. Let that be a new start for you?"

She hadn't thought of that; while she knew that the scandal would make its way to England, it certainly wouldn't cause as much disgrace there as it did here. Perhaps she could make a new start there, put this all behind her.

She gave him a slightly teary smile and nodded. "I think you may be right, Jack. It would be the best move I could make." She rose from the chair and added, "I think it's time I left now. I'm sorry to have disturbed you today."

Jack walked her to the front door, trying to think of something to say to her, other than goodbye. He knew that he'd let her down, but he wasn't going to change his mind about it.

"Well, Jack, thank you for seeing me." She met his eyes for a moment and saw that while he was clearly upset, he was standing firm. She nodded, almost imperceptibly and added, "Goodbye, Jack," before leaving.

He watched as she walked down the sidewalk towards the corner without a backward glance. He couldn't see the tears that marred her face. 

***

Earl sat in the Ford, watching Miss Fisher's house. Not a thing going on there and he thought that is was a waste of his time. He knew he could be down with his mates, betting on the races with the other punters. No, instead here he sat, bored to death. 

A movement near the house caught his attention. A woman was crossing the street in front of the house and she looked familiar. Finally he realized it was Rosie Sanderson, the boss's girl. He hopped out of the car and walked towards her, calling out her name.

"Miss? Miss Sanderson?"

Rosie looked up and spied Earl, one of Sidney's employees heading for her. It puzzled her; why would he be here today. She halted and waited for him, curious about it.

"Miss," Earl said, a bit breathless from his dash down the street. His mind was rushing quickly, trying to decide what to do; what to say to her. "Miss, would you like a ride?"

Rosie had been on her way to the tram stop a few blocks away. She wasn't terribly fond of Earl, but it was decidedly better than waiting at the stop on this cold day for the tram. She eyed him speculatively, wondering if he could be trusted.

"I can't imagine what brings you down here, Earl," she said, watching his face closely.

"Just takin' care of some business, Miss. Let me get you out of this cold."

"Business? In St. Kilda? I find that rather strange. Do you know someone here?"

"Not exactly, Miss. Just doin' a favor for a…friend."

Something about the way he didn't quite meet her gaze was concerning to her. She decided to take her chances waiting at the tram stop in the cold. "I will just go ahead and catch the tram, Earl, but thank you for the offer of the ride."

Earl wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to tell her that the boss was out, not out here in public anyway and not by stating it flat out. Still, he felt sure the boss would want to see her; in fact he knew that he intended to see her. But obviously the lady was determined not to ride with him. 

"Okay then, Miss. I just thought you might want to come with me and see an old friend." He wondered if it had been subtle enough; maybe too subtle he thought as no recognition at all flickered across her face. "Miss? I'll deliver ya safely, I promise."

Rosie glanced around her; she had the strangest of feelings. What was he talking about, old friend? It seemed very odd, and yet, a glimmer of understanding began to surface. Surely it couldn't be?

She made a decision and with a nod she agreed to follow him to his car. She hoped that it wouldn't be the last thing she ever did.

***

Phryne, Dot and Mr. B all heard the front door close and drew a collective breath as they heard footsteps that made their way into the kitchen as Jack walked through the doorway.

Phryne set her cup of tea down into the saucer with more force than necessary and it made an alarming sound; she hoped that she hadn't broken it but she also didn't care enough to examine it as she came to her feet, taking in the tense look on Jack's face.

"Jack?"

He gave her a slight smile, an effort to show her that he was fine but it was a wasted effort because she saw right through it.

"What's wrong?" She walked to him, looking him straight in the face and watched as indecision marred his features.

It wasn't that he wouldn't tell her about Rosie's visit, but he was trying to collect his thoughts about it. "Phryne…" he began and then cleared his throat. "Perhaps, we might…"

He didn't have a chance to finish the sentence when she walked past him, heading to the parlor. He followed her and inside the doors she said, "Now tell me what is wrong, and don't tell me nothing, Inspector. I can see by your face that something clearly is."

He sat down on the loveseat and she sat next to him and turned to face him , trying to wait patiently. He noticed that her usually generous mouth was drawn into a frown and sighed. 

"Rosie wanted my help; help that I refused to provide."

"Yes? What sort of help?"

"She wanted to move back into my house, to use the move as a sort of social buffer."

"I see. How did she take that?"

"She seemed to accept it, but it was hard for her I believe."

"And hard for you as well, I think. To refuse her I mean," Phryne said, knowing it to be the truth.   
He'd been with her for so many years; Phryne couldn't really understand how the longevity of that affected a person, not in a marriage that is. As she'd seen last night, there was still some sort of commonality between them because of their marriage, however truly awful it had been.

Jack nodded, acknowledging her words. Yes, it was hard for him to do that, but he knew it wouldn't do her any good to come back into his life. At best it would only hurt her and his relationship with Phryne and at worst, it would dredge up their painful past. Neither of them needed to revisit that.

"It is for the best, but I'm sure she doesn't see it that way. I did suggest that now might be an opportune time to visit family in England."

"A sensible suggestion, Jack. Will she have the funds to do that do you think?"

"I hadn't thought of that. I'll have to check with Annabelle." At Phryne's confused face he added, "Annabelle Barrington, her sister."

"Married to John Barrington?" At his nod she said, "I have heard of him. He is with the Mason banking group isn't he?"

"Yes. John and I grew up together and we served together in the war. When we were at university he married Annabelle and that is how I met Rosie."

Phryne smiled, today was a remarkable day to be sure. She learned about his family and a lifelong friend. This was an admirable turn of events. "So what did you study at university, Jack?"

"I studied to be a barrister, actually. Second year I decided that I would rather be on the side of catching criminals, as opposed to defending them. My father was not pleased," he said with a laconic smile.

Phryne's eyebrows raised a fraction as she digested this news. She knew that he was educated, his knowledge of Latin, German, chemistry and Shakespeare all told her that because it was beyond what was taught in secondary school but it was the subject that surprised her. "Why, Jack, how rebellious of you! I do approve of your rogue behavior!"

"Rogue behavior, Miss Fisher? I hadn't quite thought of it that way. I just couldn't imagine myself as a stuffy barrister."

"I'm sure your father didn't see it that way, Inspector. Now, didn't we have a date to go and collect some of your things from your house?" She pulled him close to her and tilted her head up for a kiss; Jack, being a clever man immediately got her point and claimed her lips for a searing kiss.

She melted against him; the kiss made her feel heady with desire and her knees began to shake a bit as well. She pulled away with a delighted laugh. "Jack, you do have a way of making me feel all breathless and tingly. Now, we have to go and get your things; I do not intend on letting you leave me this night and I fully desire to wake up in your arms tomorrow morning!"

He swallowed a bit nervously as he looked into her eyes; what he saw in them took his breath away. Love and desire, need and impatience as well. He smiled and nodded before agreeing, "Yes, that is exactly where I intend on being." He leaned down for another kiss but was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

He heard Phryne mutter 'damn' under her breath before she called out, "I have it, Mr. B!"  
"Hello, Miss Phryne Fisher speaking. Yes, how are you Commissioner? Good, how is Sylvia?"  
She paused as she listened to his reply. "Yes, wonderful. Jack did tell me of that. I'll expect her call."

She frowned this time as she listened. "As a matter of fact he's right here, Commissioner." She handed the phone to Jack, suddenly afraid. Matlock's tone had been tense, despite the pleasantries.

"Robinson speaking." Jack listened for a minute, making non-committal replies occasionally. Finally he said, "I'll be on the lookout; thank you sir for letting me know."

As he hung up the receiver Phryne asked, "Jack, whatever is wrong?"

"Sidney Fletcher has escaped from gaol. There is no word on his whereabouts, but they are searching for him as we speak. Commissioner Matlock urged me to be on the lookout for him."

"Does the commissioner believe you are in danger?" Phryne held her breath for a moment as she waited for him to answer.

Jack debated for a half a moment as to what to tell her. The commissioner felt that they both could be targets for Fletcher. He decided he had to be truthful because they both needed to keep their eyes open. 

Phryne nodded at the news, satisfied that her had told her the truth. "We'll just be cautious then. Should we postpone our dinner tonight?"

That might be a good idea Jack thought but then decided against it. "No, let's have the dinner. I doubt that Fletcher would make a scene in a busy restaurant."

"Alright, then dinner it is. Now, shall we go to your house?"

That might be a dangerous move, but hopefully Fletcher had already departed out of Melbourne completely. That would be the intelligent thing for him to do. Not knowing that for a fact though gave Jack a bit of pause to consider. Finally, common sense won out; he needed some things and he also needed to speak to Mrs. Mayton.

"Alright, Phryne, let's go."

She smiled as she pulled on her coat and slipped a hat on her head as well as gloves.

"We're taking my car, Miss Fisher," he warned sternly, but his eyes twinkled a bit with amusement. His only response was a lifted eyebrow and a smile.

***

Earl drove the Ford through the back streets of Abbottsford cautiously, trying not to gather any attention. Everything about his demeanor, as well as the automobile was unremarkable, blending easily into the working class neighborhood. 

Rosie sat silently, trying not to feel alarmed as they drove through streets that were completely unfamiliar to her. Finally they pulled into a drive and around the back of a nondescript house on a very quiet street. Finally, Earl shut the automobile off and got out and opened the door for her. 

"Excuse me, Earl? Where are we?"

"Just come along, Miss. Please?" he added when it seemed as if she might not follow him.  
He opened the back door to the house and held it for her. She reluctantly stepped through into a small and dingy kitchen. There were dirty dishes sitting on the table and in the sink she noted and wrinkled her nose in distaste. Suddenly, she heard a voice she recognized and smiled. It would be okay, she knew.

"Earl, what the devil are doing back here? I told you to watch that bitch Miss Fisher's house…" Sidney said as he walked through a doorway. He stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted Rosie standing in the room.

"I thought I'd bring ya a present, Mr. Fletcher," was all Earl had time to get out before Sidney had swept Rosie into a close embrace, placing light kisses all over her face before sealing his lips with hers.

Earl grinned and dug around for something to eat. Mr. Fletcher could thank him later on.

To be continued…


	12. Chapter 12

Jack drove sedately through the streets of Melbourne, completely aware that Phryne was shifting restlessly in her seat. No matter how much he loved her, he was not breaking the speed limit for her. 

Actually, what was bothering her was that they weren't heading to Richmond at all and she was slightly confused. Perhaps he had a stop to make first she decided, but as they entered a predominately residential area of Parkville her confusion increased. 

Parkville was a lovely area of Melbourne, the University was there and some very nice homes as well. If Phryne were to be honest with Jack, she would have to admit that she had once driven by his home in Richmond, not too long after they started working together. Yes, she knew it was an invasion of his privacy, but curiosity had gotten the better of her. There in Richmond she had spied a neat and tidy bungalow home; it was exactly the kind of home she imagined Jack would live in. 

She looked around her at the beautiful homes they were passing; all were well kept, with manicured lawns and quite lovely. It was an older neighborhood, judging by the large trees that would provide much needed shade in the summer months but now they were bare, having surrendered their leafy cloaks for winter.

She glanced out the window at the sky and saw a watery, pale yellow sun trying to peek through a dismally bleak sky and hoped for the sun, mentally crossing her fingers childishly. Wasn't everything better when the sun shone on it? Not that anything was wrong; on the contrary, everything was right. Except for the fact that Sidney Fletcher had escaped gaol and his whereabouts were unknown.

Jack had tried to reassure her that he'd be caught quickly if he was still in Melbourne. "Phryne, every constable in the city are on the lookout for him."

"Should we cancel our dinner plans, do you think?" She hoped that he wouldn't want that. While Fletcher being on the loose was unnerving, she refused to be intimidated by it; she would not let it disturb her life!

Jack pulled up into the drive of a large home and turned the automobile off. "Jack?" she questioned.

"This is my home, Phryne," he told her, noticing the confused look on her face. He held back a smile; he had a feeling Miss Fisher had done a bit of sleuthing in the past.

"I thought you lived in Richmond, Jack?"

"Yes, I do own a house in Richmond. That is where Rosie and I lived when we were married. After the divorce I decided I needed to get out of that house that only held bad memories for me, start again. So I moved into my grandparent's home; it’s a shame in a way, it's much too large for me, half of it is closed off. Mrs. Mayton has more than she can handle to keep it in good shape. Two of my mother's girls help her once a week to do the heavy cleaning as Mrs. Mayton is getting older now. She was with my grandparent's for many years. I sort of inherited her," he finished with a grin, the lop-sided one that always made her feel charmed by him.

He got out of the car and came around to open the door for her. As she stepped out she couldn't help but notice the appeal and warmth of the home. It was truly welcoming with its red-tiled roof and wide steps leading up to a large, wraparound porch. "It's lovely, Jack."

He nodded and told her, "This was my grandmother's favorite, of all their houses. Come on, let's get inside, it's chilly out here!" He held out his arm and she wrapped hers through it as they ascended the stairs.

Inside Phryne looked around her with interest. The foyer was warm and inviting; the colors were perfectly matched with the wood trim and the staircase that led to the second level. The pale gold of the walls, the deep umber of stone flooring by the entry way made a visitor feel welcome. 

They headed to the left and were in a large parlor, in similar colors. The walls were painted a very pale shade of cream and she loved the furnishings; all Victorian in style and perfectly at home in the room. A large fireplace occupied part of one wall and at the end of the room stood a beautiful grand piano.

"Impressive, Jack." She walked over to the piano and let her fingers pick out a few notes. "Do you play regularly?" She knew that he must; when he played at her house he was quite good.

"Fairly often, but not usually often enough. It seems that I spend too many evenings with a delectable woman I know," he teased and leaned down to kiss her lightly.

A moment later they were interrupted by an older woman who came into the room. "Oh, excuse me, Master Jack! I didn't mean to disturb!"

"No, please, Mrs. Mayton, come in. I'd like to introduce you to Miss Phryne Fisher. This is Mrs. Mayton; she has the daunting task of keeping house for me and trying to keep me in line." His smile at the woman was one of happiness and affection.

"At last, I finally meet the Hon. Miss Fisher! Master Jack has spoken of you many times. Please, have a seat and I'll fetch some tea and biscuits!" She nodded to the sofa and smiled indulgently at 'Master Jack'. Clearly the older woman was very fond of him.

Once she had left the room Phryne whispered, "Master Jack? Oh, I do like that!"

He smiled at her laugh, it sounded somewhat musical in this room. Perhaps it was the acoustics of it, he wasn't sure; he only knew that he had pictured her in this room a hundred times, but it was even better now that she was actually here.

Instead of sitting she wandered around the room, looking at knick-knacks and pictures, stopping to examine one occasionally. She stared at a picture for a moment and turned to him in question.

"That is me, Jaime, Maude and Amanda. It was taken before Jaime went to university."

"Jaime is older than you?"

"Yes, by 3 years. Maude is almost 2 years older and Amanda is a year younger."

Phryne nodded as she gazed at the picture. Jack and Amanda more closely resembled one another as did Jaime and Maude. Jack and Amanda both took after their mother she had noticed earlier which must mean that Jaime and Maude favored their father.

Another picture was clearly very old, a daguerreotype she thought. It showed a couple, obviously on their wedding day. Neither was smiling really but somehow the picture conveyed a sense of happiness. Her eyebrows raised in question as Jack stood next to her, watching as she examined the picture.

My grandparents, on their wedding day in 1843. It's a treasured photograph, the daguerreotype was fairly new then and this picture has been taken great care of since that time."

She nodded, knowing that he cherished the photograph. "This is your mother's parents?" At his nod she continued, "Did you mother have any siblings?"

"Yes, an older brother, Maxwell and his wife, Maria. They were both killed in a fire at the sugar plantation. Maria was pregnant at the time."

Phryne digested this news solemnly. Losing a son in those times was harsh luck, but at least Jack's mother had survived. "And your sister and her husband run the sugar business now?"

"Yes, they do. It's thriving, due to Wesley's solid management skills. Maude is also equally active in the business," he told her and watched her smile.

"I see. It seems the Robinson women really are quite modern. I do approve, Jack. Of the whole family actually, that is unless your brother is a beast who keeps his wife under his thumb!"

"I'll let you be the judge of that this weekend," he told her. Their chat was cut short as Mrs. Mayton entered carrying a tea tray. She sat it on a table in front of the sofa and Phryne and Jack both took a seat. 

"This smells wonderful, Mrs. Mayton, and the biscuits look delicious. I've often wondered where Jack got his private stash of biscuits from and now I have the answer!"

Mrs. Mayton laughed. "Yes, Master Jack has quite a sweet tooth, Miss Fisher. Always has."

"Mrs. Mayton, I'd like you to go and stay with your sister for a few days, if you would."

"Well, why ever should I do that?"

Jack explained about Sidney Fletcher. "I do not believe he would have any intentions to harm you, but if he has ill intent towards me, I don't want you here on your own. I'm going to be spending several days at Miss Fisher's home, to keep an eye on things there."

Phryne tried to keep her face straight at Jack's words. Surely Mrs. Mayton knew it was more than that?

She got her answer a few moments later when Mrs. Mayton replied, "Master Jack, don't try to pull the wool over my eyes. You know as well as I do that is not the only reason and I must say, it's about time!" She fixed Phryne with a pleased look and added, "He's been mooning over you for months now. His mother and I were both in despair that he'd ever get around to this. You treat him right, young woman!"

Phryne met her eyes honestly. "I give you my solemn promise that I will take very good care of him. He is very dear to me, Mrs. Mayton."

The housekeeper nodded, pleased with the answer. "Good to hear. I supposed you'll be needing some things for a few days visit?"

"Yes, but I'll collect them myself after we finish tea. Perhaps you could call your sister to make arrangements and Miss Fisher and I will take you to her house when we leave here."

"Nonsense! I can take the tram, as always, Master Jack!"

"No, we will take you. So please contact Mrs. Herrold and then collect the things you might need for a few days."

Mrs. Mayton stared at him for a moment and then realized that he meant business. This was the police officer talking and she knew better than to object. "Of course. I'll get ready."

They watched her leave the room, still not altogether happy, but both of them knew it was for the best. Phryne poured the tea and placed biscuits on plates as well. With her first bite she smiled and commented, "This is wonderful. I'm surprised you're not all roly poly if you eat biscuits like this very often." She took another bite and chewed it thoughtfully. It really was delicious.

He chuckled at her words. "It's probably due to chasing down criminals, Miss Fisher." When she rolled her eyes at him he laughed again. "Might be because I ride my bike frequently as well."

The information made her smile. "Do you still go exploring the neighborhoods of North Richmond, Inspector?"

"Occasionally. That is my Sunday morning activity; some go to church to talk to God. I ride my bike."

"To talk to God?" she asked, suddenly curious. Okay, more curious she thought.

"So to speak. It helps me to clear my head, work off stress." He ate another biscuit and waited for her reply. He knew she'd have one.

Except she didn't. She just digested the information with interest and filed it away. Everyone needed a way to unwind and this was evidently Jack's. Personally, she liked to tear about in her Hispano. To each his own she decided.

A thought came to her and she spoke up with it. "I'm glad that Jane isn't home yet; hopefully he'll be captured by that time. I wouldn't care to have to worry about her again."

Jack noticed her small shiver and wondered if she were thinking about Murdoch Foyle. It made sense for her to think about the threat he had posed. Frankly, Jack hadn't thought about Jane in all this, not just about Fletcher but also about him and Phryne. His voiced his concerns aloud.  
"Jack, she'll be very happy, I'm sure. She adores you, has always looked up to you."

Both of them smiled when they thought about Jack's first encounter with Phryne's adopted daughter; perhaps that first meeting wasn't so pleasant between them but they had quickly moved past it.

Phryne took in the vulnerable look on Jack's face and realized how much he hoped her words were true. He and Rosie had 'never been blessed' in his words. Did he want to be a father? Would he be happy to be a father figure to Jane? She had no doubt that Jane would be thrilled about it, having Jack share their household. 

"Jack, you have both come a long way since that first meeting." She reached out and took his hand and he slowly looked at her; she saw his doubt registered in his eyes. "She will love you, just as I do. In truth, I think she already does. When she calls home and writes letters she always asks after you."

"She does?" He looked a bit relieved at her words. "I - I look forward to getting to know her better. Before she left she told me she was very interested in history and geography, which is why she was looking forward to her tour of Europe so much."

"She still is; my mother has dragged her to every castle imaginable and she isn't tired of them at all. She loved their time in France as well. They met my friend Claire who I served in the ambulance unit with. I think they all had a grand time there."

He nodded and saw that they had eaten all the biscuits; he amended that to he had eaten most of them with a smile. "Shall we go and pack a few things for me? I'm sure Mrs. Mayton will be done before too long."

"Does she live in?"

"In a way, she actually lives in a cottage out back. It is convenient for all of us."

She agreed and followed him up the stairs as he told her a bit about the house. Upstairs she was impressed with the spaciousness of the rooms and especially all the bathrooms, it made it very convenient for guests. All the bedrooms were closed off except for Jack's and as soon as she stepped through she realized that she would have known it was Jack's room anywhere. She smiled at that thought; it just looked like Jack.

A large bed stood by the windows, close enough to catch cool breezes but far enough away to miss pesky frigid drafts. In one corner sat a large, over-stuffed chair and ottoman, with a table beside it, upon which rested a book. When she picked it up she saw that it was The Bishop Murder Case; she grinned and said, "Don't you get enough of murder on the job?"

He gave her a slightly cocky smile and said, "You never know, I might learn something new, Miss Fisher. You might find that book interesting yourself. That is if you can pull yourself away from Lady Chatterley's Lover!"

"You never know, Inspector. You might learn something from that one!" she countered and saw a dangerous gleam spark in his eyes. 

He came to her and pulled her tightly against him and tipped her head back as he took her lips in a kiss that left her breathless. "You think so?" he asked as he saw her lick her lips and take a deep breath.

She turned from him for a moment to regain her composure. "Time will tell, Inspector," she said playfully, but both of them knew that he didn't need the help of any book. "Are you ready to gather your things?"

"Of course. I just need to get a valise out of the closet, won't be but a minute," he told her. True to his word, he was right back and started opening drawers, looking for the clothing items he wanted. Before she knew it, his packing was done. She had picked out several ties to go with a suit he was bringing with him and they were both satisfied with the choice.

"I still believe that I'm capable of taking the tram to my sister's house, Master Jack."

Jack couldn't help but notice that every time Mrs. Mayton addressed him Phryne had a smile that tugged on the corners of her mouth. He was positive he'd hear more about this later.

"Nonsense, Mrs. Mayton, I insist." He carried his valise out to the automobile and then came back to pick up her small bag. "Is this all you're taking with you?" The bag was curiously light.

"All I need. Not going to be there for long am I?"

"Hopefully not."

"Master Jack? I forgot to mention that your mother and sister came by earlier, as did Miss Sanderson. She told me to get a room ready for her, but I decided to wait to hear from you before I did that. I hope I wasn't being impertinent."

"No, not at all. Did you tell them I was at Miss Fisher's?"

"No, I'm sure I had no idea where you were, if you weren't at work."

Obviously they had all taken a guess and got it right. Perhaps they knew him better than he thought they did.

After they dropped Mrs. Mayton at her sister's house they went back to St. Kilda, to Phryne's home. All was quiet there, something that they were both thankful for.

 

***

 

After Rosie managed to pull herself out of Sidney's embrace she chided him with "What are you doing out of gaol? They'll be looking for you everywhere."

"Now, Rosie, don't fret my love. I've made arrangements for us to leave together. In a few days we're going to Singapore to start a new life. I've been transferring money and business holdings there for a year, in preparation for something like this. We'll be safe there, Rosie, happy. I promise you, it will be wonderful."

Singapore? Leave Australia? The thought was actually a bit scary for her; this was home, Annabelle was here. If they left, they'd be fugitives and could never come home. She wasn't sure she wanted that, no matter how much she loved Sidney.

"I - I'm not sure, Sidney. I think you should turn yourself in; darling, we'll get the best barrister, we'll fight this. You can say that you didn't know what was going on."

"It's too late for that, Rosie. They know how deeply I'm involved. I have to go. If I stay I'll hang and I'm not going to let that happen."

"Sidney, why weren't you honest with me about it all?"

"Would you have wanted to know the truth, Rosie? The whole truth?"

He saw a stricken look cross her face and had his answer. A tear slipped down her cheek and he kissed it away, understanding how much she would feel the pain of what had happened.

"Rosie, I'm so sorry for it all. But I wouldn't change a thing, even if I could. My love, it has given us the means to have a grand life, a life away from here and the conventional way of life that we lead. In Singapore, things are different. Rosie, you are a like a shooting star, you'll be a queen of society there."

She bit her lower lip as she contemplated what he'd told her. She loved him, no denying that, she loved him with all her heart. But could she walk away from everyone and everything in her life?

"I don't know Sidney; won't they find us there? I can't bear the thought of having to look over our shoulder for the rest of our lives."

"I promise you, my love, it won't be like that." He tilted her chin up a bit so he could look into her eyes. "Just trust me, Rosie. I'll take care of us."

She finally nodded, still a bit unsure of this plan. She knew that she wouldn't even have the chance to say goodbye to Annabelle or even to see her father. That hurt, so much. He could die and she wouldn't be here with him. She looked around the room and walked to a chair to sit down for a bit. She needed to think.

Would he let her go, now that she'd seen him and knew where he was? She rested her hands in her lap, picking lightly at her thumb nail, an old habit since her childhood days. She knew she had better go along with him for now at least.

"Rosie, I need to go and speak with Earl for a moment. I'll be back soon."

She watched as Sidney disappeared into the kitchen and sat back in the chair and pulled in a deep breath. Her stomach felt like it was doing flip flops, she needed some tea to settle it. Surely somewhere in that kitchen she could find some tea and a clean cup?

"I want you to go back to Miss Fisher's house and watch it. If you see them out, I want them both shot dead. If you don't see them, break in, but either way, I'd better hear of their deaths in the morning. Do you understand, Earl? It won't be good for you if you can't follow my orders."  
Rosie backed away as quietly as she could. She needed to get out of here. No matter what, she couldn't sit here and let Jack and Phryne Fisher be killed.

To be continued…


	13. Chapter 13

**So sorry to be late. I moved a few days ago and I had the internet switched yesterday and it decided not to work. It has taken two days now to get it figured out, mostly because I added TV to the mixture. Anyway, we're good to go now, I guess.**

"I want you to go back to Miss Fisher's house and watch it. If you see them out, I want them both shot dead. If you don't see them, break in, but either way, I'd better hear of their deaths in the morning. Do you understand, Earl? It won't be good for you if you can't follow my orders."

Rosie tried to back away from the kitchen door and managed to bump into a small table that she'd forgotten about. She tried to stifle her gasp but realized all too soon that Sidney had heard it. 

Her mind was whirling at Sidney's words. She might hate the thought of Jack being with that woman but she'd never want them dead. How could Sidney be so callous, so vicious? She looked up with a start when he walked out of the kitchen, his eyes focused on her, assessing what she might have heard. When she couldn't meet his eyes he knew that she'd heard it all.

"Rosie, my love, it has to be done," his words gentle, reminding her of someone who was delivering bad news, which this was, to her anyway.

"Why, Sidney? I know that they ruined your plans, but we're leaving here. What is the purpose in killing them?"

"Don't tell me that you're suddenly feeling a bit sentimental, Rosie? Or are you still in love with that man? The man who churned you up into little pieces and spit you out like rubbish? Could that be it?" He regarded her with narrowed eyes, intent on watching her reaction to his words  
.  
"Love him? Of course not. Sidney, I only love you. But it's just more for me to bear, with father being so close to death. I can't stand the thought of having their deaths on my conscience as well. Please, we're leaving, just let them be."

"Do you seriously think that Inspector Jack Robinson would ever give up looking for me, Rosie? Don't be naïve, my love. He'll never stop and I have to protect us both. You have nothing to do with this, ease your conscience now." His words were clipped as he tried to control his anger; how dare she care what happened to Jack Robinson and that social harlot, Phryne Fisher? He didn't really think she still could love him but perhaps he was wrong. The thought made him burn with jealousy. He'd waited too many years for her, even gladly accepting Robinson's leftovers just to finally have the woman he'd loved all his life. 

"Its - it's not that easy, Sidney. I can't undo, what I know I mean. This knowledge makes me complicit in what will happen and I can't abide the thought. Please don't do this!" She was trying unsuccessfully to hold back tears and when Sidney saw them sparkling in her eyes a blazing anger took hold of him and he hit her across her mouth and then watched a trickle of blood seep from the corner of it.

"I'll do what needs to be done, Roselyn. Do not question that again." His words were spoken with deadly calm and a brittle civility that scared her more than his slap had. The fact that he'd used her formal name should be a serious warning to her; he hoped she'd realize that.

"Of course, Sidney. I'm sorry." She backed away from him and sank down into a chair in the living room, searching her bag for a handkerchief to wipe her mouth. The taste of blood was acrid and tinny tasting and she wished even more for a cup of tea.

She had to get away and stop this. She didn't know how, but she had to.

 

***

 

Jack carried his valise up the stairs at Phryne's house, feeling excited about it. He had to laugh at himself because no callow, inexperienced youth could possibly feel more eager to share a bed with a woman than he did. And not just any woman; Phryne. He'd scarcely allowed himself to think much about it because it brought an immediate response to his body that was getting harder to conceal by the minute. 

He was looking forward to the family dinner; family being not a single member of her blood relations but rather the group of individuals that she had gathered to her and loved dearly. He'd never known anyone with a more open heart than Phryne Fisher. Their loyalty to her spoke volumes as well; he knew that any one of them would walk through fire for her and had, in a manner of speaking.

As a man who loved and cherished his own family he couldn't help but wonder at the dynamics of hers. She made occasional references to her father, an apparent drunkard who would lock her into a cupboard when she misbehaved. Which, knowing Phryne was probably often, but he felt that her misbehaving was more likely a matter of her being her own, strong mined person, which her father obviously couldn't tolerate.

Of her mother she'd said little, which made him even more curious. Was she cowed by her husband, a meek woman afraid to have an opinion of her own? Her sister, Prudence certainly wasn't but after years in what might have been a bad marriage, who knows how the woman felt. He knew that Jane had spent a good deal of time in England with her grandparents while she was on her grand tour, but that didn't really tell him anything.

All in all, it wasn't much knowledge about them. She apparently wasn't close to any of them and he couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with the death of Janey, her sister? Perhaps her heart just wouldn't let her open herself to her family any longer, much as Rene had made her keep her heart locked away as well.

It seemed to Jack that the people she did love were the ones that had no familial connection to her; he knew that her relationship with Prudence Stanley could be very difficult at times, like this morning. He also knew that she seemed to love both her cousins very much, especially Arthur. They posed no threat apparently so they were safe, much like the others she had brought into her life. Even Doctor Macmillan, her closest friend, she sometimes kept at arm's length. Yet still, they did care deeply for one another and that gave Jack some hope that others could earn her love, like his family.

It was important for her to at least like them, if she couldn't bring herself to love them. He was close to them and saw them often; if Phryne couldn't accept that if would put a strain on their relationship and he didn't want to think what would happen if that were the case.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when Phryne came into the room, wearing a huge smile as she saw that Jack was standing in her boudoir, but she was curious as to why he hadn't removed anything from his valise and questioned him.

He reached for the best excuse he could, which was, "I wasn't sure where you wanted me to put everything."

"OH!" she exclaimed, realizing that he was right, there hadn't been anywhere cleared for him. She opened the door and called out to Dot for assistance.

"We'll have if figured out in a snap, Jack," she said, her answer punctuated by a snap of her fingers. She headed into the dressing room to start surveying it for possible solutions.  
When Dot entered the room Jack smiled and nodded toward the dressing room and she smiled back at him and joined her Miss. Phryne had an armful of items, mostly fancy dresses worn to formal engagements and she asked, "Dot, can you store these in one of the guest rooms for now? I'm trying to find space for Jack's things."

Dot accepted the garments and came close to dropping the load at her Miss' words. Did this mean that the Inspector was moving in? Were they getting married immediately? It was very puzzling.

For two years Dot had watched as various men had come and gone in Phryne's life; none of them were here for longer than a night or two, with the exception of Lin Chung that is. In Dot's world, an unmarried woman didn't live with a man; it wasn't done. Not unless she was a woman like Nell, her sister who used the name Lola for professional reasons that Dot preferred to ignore. And actually, she didn't think even Lola would go this far. What on earth would Dot tell Father Grogan about this?

Nothing, she realized. She thought the Inspector was good for her Miss and they loved one another; how could that be wrong?

Dot carried the garments to the room next door and hung them up in the empty wardrobe. Miss Fisher entered the room a minute later with an armful of assorted items that had been stored on shelves. "I am going to have to expand the bedroom now," she said as they stored the items away. Dot followed her back into the bedroom for another armful. "Honestly, I've been thinking about it for awhile now, it would be wonderful to have a bigger dressing room and also a complete lavatory in the bedroom instead of just the tub. What do you think, Jack?"

If Jack was surprised to be included in the conversation he hid it well. "I can tell you from personal experience that it is quite useful to have a full bathroom attached to the bedroom suite."

"Yes, I was quite jealous at your home. We must make it happen here."

He smiled as Dot left the room with the last load of items and pulled the door closed behind her. "I think Miss Fisher that we must make many things happen here; do you agree?" 

She let out a low laugh, a sensual growl almost and walked straight into his arms. "I believe you are correct, Inspector. But not at this moment. I very much wish to bathe before I dress for the evening. You may join me if you wish," she said, her words a mere whisper in his ear. The warmth of her breath immediately brought a rise to him and he stepped away. 

If he climbed in that tub with her he knew that they'd never make dinner. He reluctantly stepped away and said, "I believe I'll leave you to your scented bath. I'll use the guest room to get ready?"

At her nod he stepped into the dressing room to collect the necessary clothing items. When he came back into the bedroom he found her completely undressed and turning on the taps for the tub. His mouth gaped at the delectable curve of her derriere and immediately snapped his eyes shut, in an effort to put that from his mind. It did no good, it was firmly burned into his brain and turned and headed out of the room as quickly as possible.

He missed the grin that Phryne threw over her shoulder at his hasty retreat. Not much longer and there would be no hiding away for either of them. 

Thank the heavens!

 

***

 

Chief Commissioner Hiram Matlock was frustrated and angry, at, well everyone around him. He knew that the constables were doing their best to find Fletcher, but not a single clue had turned up. He'd been to visit the Barrington home to speak to Rosie Sanderson, but found that she wasn't in. The maid didn't have any idea where Miss Sanderson might be - she'd left in the late morning and hadn't been home since. 

He'd stopped by the hospital and found Annabelle there, but she told him that Rosie hadn't been there to see their father. There was still no change in George and the doctors had begun to agree that he might never wake up. Hiram had put another guard on Sanderson, just in case Fletcher felt the need to make sure that George never woke up. 

The constables had been to every business interest that Fletcher had, every single known hangout as well but Matlock knew that he wouldn't be in any of those places. Now they were focusing on his known associates, trying to track down properties associated with them. 

Hiram felt saddened by how hard it was for the Fletcher family; all of this had been a complete shock to them. He believed their disavowal of any knowledge of Sidney's schemes and he also believed that they knew nothing of his whereabouts. He'd known the Fletcher family for years and their grief was real.

Leave no stone unturned, that was his motto in such circumstances. However, they were quickly running out of stones.

 

***

 

Sidney stood in the kitchen and stared out the window that was above the sink with dirty dishes sitting in it. For obvious reasons they didn't have a maid and while he could compel Earl to kill someone, he couldn't seem to make the man clean up the kitchen.

He sighed and felt terrible about hitting Rosie; she was his treasure, the woman he loved more than anything. He had never before hit a woman and it made him feel slightly ill.

That she hated what he was going to do was obvious but did she hate it enough that he couldn't win her to his side? That was a very pertinent question.

Sidney didn't consider himself a bad man; on the contrary, he thought he was quite a good man. He gave copious amounts to charity, both in money and time. He respected his elders, supported friends in time of need; he did all the things that make a man a good man.

But business was business.

As far as he was concerned, he was doing those girls a favor. Had they stayed here they would have likely eventually ended up at prostitutes, servicing sailors in the most degrading ways, in the dirty back alleys of Melbourne. They'd ultimately die of disease or a slit throat from an unhappy john. 

Once their voyage was over the girls were sold to wealthy men who wanted them because of their pure bodies and fair skin. In many of those households they were sold to they'd be respected members, revered basically. That was so much better for them, whether they realized it or not at the time of their abductions.

He mulled all these thoughts around while he washed out cups and a teapot so that he could brew some tea for Rosie. He hoped that it would make her feel a bit better. He thought he might try to explain all this to her, but he realized that now wasn't the time. No, he'd let her drink her tea and settle a bit first.

When the water boiled he poured it over the tea leaves and waited patiently for it to brew a bit as he looked for something that would pass for a tray. He also located a packet of biscuits so he added them to the tray as well. Tomorrow he was going to have to have Earl go to the market to make some purchases.

Rosie was civil when he brought her the tea, but she said little. Her excuse was that she was very tired; having had little sleep the night before and she also thought she might still be feeling the effects of the laudanum that Annabelle had given her. When they'd finished their tea she asked if there were somewhere she could lay down for a bit and rest.

Sidney led her into a bedroom that was reasonably neat. The crude bed covers were pulled up and the room wasn't too dirty but was certainly dismal. She thanked him graciously and even allowed him to place a kiss on her cheek.

As he closed the door he heard her settle onto the bed, the springs creaking softly. He smiled, knowing that this was exactly what his love needed.

 

***

 

In the Fisher household Phryne was just finishing dressing. Jack had previously done so and was downstairs in the parlor, sipping a glass of whiskey while he read the mornings paper, which he'd not had a chance to read yet. It was full of the raid on the Pandarus and it brought it all back to him vividly. 

Dot helped Phryne don a beautiful headdress for the evening; it was a lovely weaving of green peridot in a gold filigree setting. Phryne admired it greatly because it was unusual in the fact that peridot was most often a lighter shade of green. However these gems were a much deeper shade, closer to emerald and she wanted it to go with her ring as did her dress, chosen carefully for the evening.

Phryne had caught Dot staring more than once at the ring, but so far she had kept her curiosity at bay. Phryne and Jack hadn't exactly decided what and when to tell everyone of their understanding; it was still new to them and a cherished secret, made dearer because they alone knew it. Still, they'd soon have to say something about it and Phryne wondered how they would explain the ring that wasn't really an engagement ring? At least not at this time. Phryne looked down at the ring for a moment, loving it, knowing how much she loved Jack and hoping that he had the patience to give her the time she needed. 

As she slipped an emerald green sheath dress with an over-layer of swirling hues of turquoise that changed shades a bit as she moved, she sighed at the beauty and cleverness of the design, by Salon Fleuri of course. It left one shoulder bare and made her neck look long and delectable, she hoped. Delectable for a certain Inspector that is.

Dot was dressed in a charming dress in a soft shade of rose, which looked beautiful on her. It had fine lace around the rounded neckline and she'd noticed Dot tugging it up on several occasions, clearly uncomfortable with what she thought was too revealing for her. The dress had been a gift from Phryne and had been designed by the younger sister Fleuri. Phryne thought it perfect for her young companion. 

"Dot, it is not too low cut. Goodness, you can't see even a hint of cleavage but it shows off your lovely neck to great advantage. I'm sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but it really does look lovely on you. I'm sure Hugh will think so too."

"You don't think he'll think it…too much, Miss?" she asked, still a bit unsure. She did have to admit that it was a perfectly wonderful dress; maybe it wasn't quite as immodest as it seemed. It was just her first time to wear such a dress, although she'd observed many other women wearing this style.

Phryne gave a small laugh that sounded almost musical. "I think he'll love it and wish he didn't have to share you all evening, Dot."

That brought a vivid flush to Dot; it started on that lovely neck and swept up her face. Some unrecognized feeling made her tummy feel strange and she drew in a quick breath at the sensation. She blinked as she stared in the mirror and knew that Miss Phryne had saw the flush and likely did not believe it was strictly embarrassment.

"Come along, Dot. I'm sure that your constable will be here soon and I know that Jack is waiting for us downstairs. She offered her arm as a means of a bit of courage for Dot who took it gratefully as they descended the stairs together. When they entered the parlor Jack stood and his eyes lit up as he took in the women.

"You both look very pretty tonight." Phryne knew that had it been only the two of them the words would have been a bit different but they were meant to charm Dot and she could have kissed him for that. On second thought, she would kiss him for that. As she headed across the room there was a knock on the front door and Dot froze, knowing it was Hugh. Her hand started trembling and no amount of deep breaths could calm her nerves.

Mr. Butler headed to the door and let Hugh in. When he stepped into the parlor his eyes popped open in surprise at seeing his fiancé. She was beautiful, beyond beautiful and suddenly he was dumbstruck at how to let her know that.

"Dottie…I …I don't even know the words to tell you how perfectly lovely you look tonight. That dress is wonderful on you." He was afraid he'd messed things up; he usually got into trouble when he talked about her clothes.

One look at her face told him that for once, he'd said exactly the right thing. Her smile lit up her face just as one did the same on his. Their eyes locked and for a moment it was only them in the room.

Phryne and Jack grinned at one another; both were able to appreciate what was happening to Dot and Hugh. Phryne finally did steal that kiss from Jack and breathed him in. She'd never felt so happy.

Finally Jack said, "Shall we go? We don't want to miss out reservations."

Everyone headed into the foyer to gather their coats. It was a happy group that exited the house, Phryne and Jack in his automobile, with Mr. Butler riding in Hugh's with Dot. All of them were excited about the evening's festivities  
.

***

 

Earl watched as the group left the house. There were too many of them to get a clean shot. Sooner or later they'd be back though so he'd wait them out, hoping that it would only be the two of them later on.

He pulled his coat a little bit tighter around him, wishing he had a blanket as well. The temperature was getting frigid again. It was going to be a cold wait; he could only hope it wouldn't be a long one.

To be continued…


	14. Chapter 14

Rosie lay down on the bed, hoping that if Sidney heard the bed creak he'd relax a bit. She needed to get out of here; she needed to warn Jack about what Sidney planned.

It wasn't that she still loved Jack as a husband; it was just because she couldn't bear the thought of him being killed for doing his job. When you are a constable's wife you learn to live with the danger that is always present. They have a job to do and when they do it, when they catch the bad guys, it’s a good thing.

She had felt overwhelming panic when Sidney and her father were first arrested. All she'd thought about was what this would do to her life and how to survive it all as unscathed as possible. Yes, she'd tried to hide what she knew from Jack; she'd tried to manipulate him into feeling guilty so that he'd be willing to help her. She'd done all that and she suddenly felt deep shame and the regret made her more determined to help him and Miss Fisher now.

Was Sidney a bad guy? She didn't want to believe that; she loved him more than she'd ever loved anyone. He'd been a part of her life as long as she could remember, her childhood companion, her friend and now her lover. She didn't want to think of him as the bad guy, and yet, in truth he was  
.  
Two more deaths might very well be more than she could bear. She wanted a life with Sidney but she was also aware that it couldn't happen, not now. Too much had happened; now she had to prevent anything else bad happening.

There was a window in the room, next to the bed. When she rolled over to examine it she noticed that it had been painted shut; she'd need something to help her get it open. Across the spare room, on a tall chest she spotted Sidney's shaving kit. His razor might be just what she needed so she carefully moved off the bed and crossed the room. 

She opened the leather kit and found the razor; with luck it would cut through the layers of paint. She moved back to the bed, wincing as it creaked yet again. She heard Sidney move outside the door and lay still, hoping he would just think that she'd moved in the bed. After a few minutes she heard him move off and let out a breath she hadn't even been aware of holding.

She unfolded the blade from the handle and comprehended that her hands were shaking with nervousness. She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself and then raised the straight edged razor to the seal around the window. The blade actually cut through the paint easier than she could have hoped for and within a half hour it was done. She had a way to escape.

The next question was what would she do when she was out of here? It was twilight and darkness would fall soon; it was also very cold. She had her coat and hat with her, which would help but it might be a long walk to a tram stop. 

She did have money with her; she could take a taxi, but first she'd likely have to find somewhere to call for one. Which brought her back to the lateness of the hour. Groceries would be closing soon, if they hadn't already. Another problem, aside from escaping undetected would be waiting at a tram stop. If Sidney discovered her gone that would likely be the first place he would look. She needed to decide what to do quickly and do it; the longer she was in here resting, the more the likelihood he'd come in to check on her and she didn't see a lock on the door.

If she put the pillows under the cover it could look like she was sleeping; that could work she decided, especially in the lengthening shadows of the room. He'd have to switch on a lamp to see her properly and he might be hesitant to do that for awhile yet.

It was as good a plan as any she decided and put the pillows into place under the covers. She grabbed her coat, hat and bag and worked as quietly as she could to get the window open. Thankfully, it slid open without much fuss and she slipped out of it, landing on the ground with a quiet 'thump'. She pulled the window back down and looked around, hoping no one had seen her. 

Rosie tried to decide which way was the most likely to hold a tram stop. She hadn't seen any on the drive here, not any close that was, but then, she hadn't been looking for one either. She decided to cross in back of the house to the next street over. Then she'd walk until she found someplace to call a taxi or catch the tram. The good thing was that walking would help to keep her warm.

She said a small prayer that Earl hadn't killed them yet.

 

***

 

The restaurant was perfect, but then Phryne would have been surprised if it hadn't been, simply because Mr. Butler had recommended it. The private room was set up and waiting for them, spacious enough to comfortably seat them all and yet still be cozy enough for conversation. 

Phryne tried to arrange for the bill to be taken care of, but Jack interrupted her. "I have this, Phryne." When he saw that she was going to protest, he said, "Please, let me." She nodded; it was okay really. She understood now that he wasn't quite the poor constable she had thought at first; it was evidently important to him to do it. 

The others came in quickly, first Mac and then Cec, Alice and Bert. Alice looked lovely in a sea green dress that made her skin appear radiant; she absolutely looked beautiful. In fact she seemed to be glowing; marriage must suite her Phryne decided. Phryne had only seen her twice since the ceremony, but it was clear that she was incredibly happy. Phryne was sure that Cec was as well, but since she saw him most days and he was often smiling it was harder to gauge on him.

When everyone was seated wine was poured for most of them with Hugh and Bert holding out for beer. Chatter and laughter by all of them made for a most merry evening. Right before their dinners were served Cec stood up; everyone looked at him in question and he blushed slightly to be the center of attention.

"I'd like to say something. You all know how Alice and me first met; it was a really hard time, but we got through it. Since then, we've kind a got used to the fact that it would just be us together, but today, Doctor Mac told us that Alice is havin' a baby. We didn't think it was possible, but according to the doc, it's true."

Applause erupted through the room with liberal exclamations of 'Congratulations' thrown in. Alice and Cec were both blushing now but clearly very happy. 

Bert stood up and raised his mug of beer. "To my best friend and his wife! I can't think of a better pair to be parents!"

Alice said, "Thank you, Uncle Bert!" which made Bert blush, clearly surprised, before he donned a grin that lit up his face.

"What a wonderful surprise, Cec and Alice. Cec, does this mean that you'll miss breakfast at my house now that you'll be up half the night?" Phryne teased, her eyes sparkling with merriment.

"Ah, I couldn't do that, Miss," he laughed. "Mr. B makes a fine breakfast, he does."

Mac raised an eyebrow and cast a curious look at Phryne. "Is this the only thing we're celebrating this evening?" she asked, looking at Phryne's hand.

Phryne never missed a beat. "Isn't this good news enough?"

Mac wondered if they were going to keep quiet so as to not spoil Cec and Alice's announcement. That would be a very polite thing to do, but since Phryne didn't know of this news when they arranged the dinner this morning it seemed doubtful. Still, she decided to keep quiet for now. Maybe they'd say something later.

She cast the occasional glance at Phryne and Jack. She couldn't count how often they stole a longing look at one another or touched the others hand. The sometimes steamy looks they shared were almost enough even to make her blush. 

It was about time she thought. If these two hadn't gotten together soon the rest of them were going to do something drastic about it. Every since she saw the way they regarded one another when they were investigating Professor Katz' death it had been as clear as a window how much they loved one another. Both of them were pained when the other was in the room and pain that deep could only come from love. Mac would swear that Jack knew the problem, but Phryne seemed oblivious to it. Evidently they both figured it out. 

Mac hadn't talked to Phryne since last night's adventure; Dot had filled her in some on the telephone this morning though. It could have gone so badly in a very 'they are dead' sort of way. Dot had been matter of fact about it, but Mac knew she was holding back her feelings about it all. Cec, this morning, most likely because of Alice's presence had just brushed it all under the rug. That was at least part of the problem with his silence. The other was that both he and Alice were afraid that something terrible was wrong with her, never suspecting that she might be pregnant.

After Alice's botched abortion by George the Butcher Mac had told her it was unlikely she would ever conceive again. George had left her insides a ragged and torn mess. But as was often unpredictable, she healed, well in fact and now she was pregnant. At about 4 months along they were past the most dangerous period of pregnancy. What remained to be seen was whether or not her healed womb would be able to carry to term. Only time would tell about that.

Phryne was cognizant of the speculative looks that Mac was casting her way. Yes, they all wondered about the ring; she couldn't change that but it was still too new, too perfect to share. She did know that sooner or later her best friend would demand answers but she felt sure it wouldn't be tonight. 

As she looked around the table she could see that everyone was enjoying themselves. After last night they needed a bit of merriment. It still scared her a bit, what might have happened. She'd had many close calls in the past, but they had only affected her; this one could have taken the lives of people she loved and that was a thought she couldn't reconcile herself with. 

Yes, she freely admitted that she often leapt before she looked; that was just who she was and she knew that in the future she and Jack would surely have more than one argument about it. Somehow the thought didn't scare her, the fact that they would argue. She knew that it would take more than an argument to destroy what they had, a fact she heartily appreciated.

What a strange relationship they had; absolutely no courtship and yet here they were, in love and together. Living in sin, as society would see it. Well, almost living in sin as Jack hadn't actually moved in for good. That would come in time though, she felt confident. How would he have done it, she wondered? Courting her; winning her heart? She laughed softly as she thought about it and then caught him looking at her questioningly. She only grinned at him and whispered that she'd tell him later. Clearly puzzled he nonetheless let it go for now; you didn't make Phryne do anything she wasn't ready to do.

Jack was clearly puzzled by Phryne's laugh, but he quickly put it aside. Tonight was one of the best evenings he'd experienced in a long time. No stress, just the pleasure of good company. Yes, he had to admit, even the two red-raggers. He really needed to start thinking of them in different terms; they were likely not going anywhere and he could tell that Phryne adored them both.

Hearing that Alice was expecting was happy news that made him a bit wistful if he were honest with himself. He and Rosie had never managed to create a child, even when they were having relations. He never knew if it was just an unlucky circumstance or a physical problem but it had just never happened. Had the marriage been a happy one he would have asked her to explore other options, such as adoption.

Which made him think of Jane. She'd be home soon and despite what Phryne said, he was nervous about how his presence in the house, however limited or often it was would affect her. Since first meeting the young girl he'd come to admire her a great deal. She was strong, whether because she had Phryne for an example or the circumstances of taking care of herself in the streets for so long he wasn't sure. Perhaps it was a bit of both. The thing he had noticed about Phryne, the thing that he most admired in fact was that she took in these people who needed love and just gave it so freely, including himself. She encouraged them to become better persons and they never let her down; almost like she had a magical touch. 

He ought to know because he was one of those people. He'd been deeply wounded, of mind and spirit when they met and somehow he'd been healed. Phryne had worked some sort of magic and before he knew it he felt alive again, ready to face the world. How much luckier could he get?

Jack reached for her hand and saw her smile as he gently squeezed it and then stroked the back of it with his thumb. Yes, very lucky he decided as he saw her shiver slightly from the contact. He felt the same thing and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

Dot saw the small gesture between Miss Phryne and the Inspector; the love they shared was so apparent to everyone in the room she noticed and yet these two had managed to hide from it for months. How could that be? It hadn't taken her any time at all to know that she loved Hugh with all her heart. She couldn't wait to be engaged to him, even though they'd had their differences about what marriage would mean for them.

She glanced shyly at her constable, so glad he was with her. She wondered about marriage, what it would bring for them. Children, she hoped, although if she were honest she'd like to have a bit of time with just the two of them. There were ways of making sure of that Miss Phryne had told her, but most of them were against the Catholic faith. But, she'd been told by her Miss that a couple of them might work.

Miss Phryne had given her a book to read, a book that had made her blush with shame and something else she didn't understand. The illustrations in Erotica of the Far East had set her face to flaming and caused a curious sensation in the, well the parts of her body that were better left unmentioned at this point. Surely people didn't actually do these things?

Her Miss had told her that they did for a fact and enjoyed them, also telling her that she too could experience the joy of loving her man. It was bewildering to Dot; her mother had told her that when that time came with Hugh that she should just be still and endure it. That scared her greatly; why would she have to endure it? Was there pain involved? Miss Phryne told her that there could be, the first time but that if she and Hugh worked together that great pleasure could be found in the act of love. 

She hoped that it was true and imagining it brought another blush to her face, which Hugh noticed and was very curious about.

"Are you okay," he whispered into her ear. He stared for a moment at her beautiful neck, exposed so prettily in her dress and ached to press his lips against it, just like he had seen in the book Miss Fisher had loaned him. He'd tried kissing her neck before but her coat was on and he felt sure it would be vastly different without the coat. He licked his lips as he contemplated doing just that.

"I'm fine, Hugh. You look strange, are you okay?"

"Quite fine, Dottie. I'm just happy." At her nod he relaxed a bit. It was a good night.

 

***

 

Rosie found a green grocer who was getting ready to close but he begrudgingly allowed her in so that she could call for a taxi. Once the call was made though he ushered her out of the shop. He hoped it wouldn't take too long for the taxi to get there, but supper was waiting for him and home and he was hungry.

 

***

 

Phryne invited everyone back to the house for drinks; Mac accepted but Alice was feeling a bit tired so she and Cec were heading home. Bert would drive them and stop around later he promised. Mac was going to stop by the hospital to check on a patient but wouldn't be long she promised. 

Phryne and Jack made the drive in content contemplation of the evening. Both of them were glad the dinner had gone so well and they looked forward to drinks as well with their friends.   
They were both extremely aware of the closeness of the other; each light touch had felt electric almost. Their looks at one another smoldered with desire, a prelude or maybe a promise of what they would share later. Neither lamented that that would be delayed a bit because of drinks; it seemed as if anticipation truly was the best form of foreplay.

When Jack pulled up in front of Phryne's house he shut the engine down and turned to her and pulled her into a searing kiss that took the breath away from each of them. Somewhere along the way he'd lost Hugh in his old car, but that was okay, it gave them a private moment to savor. In a few minutes the rest of them would be here and they would welcome the guests and enjoy the rest of the evening.

 

***

 

It took forever for the taxi to get there. Rosie was freezing by the time it showed up. She'd been watching carefully for Sidney, keenly aware that if he found her it wouldn't go well for her. He had too much to hide and protect; she was smart enough to know that she was probably not one of those things now.

 

***

 

She'd been sleeping for several hours when Sidney started to get worried. He knew she hadn't rested last night, so he'd let her be but finally he decided to just peek into the room to make sure she was well. 

At first all looked fine; he saw her under the covers and he worried that perhaps she was cold because she seemed to be curled up tightly. He found another blanket and went to spread it over her but as he did something didn't look right. He pulled the cover over her off and discovered that she was missing.

He had no idea of how long she'd been gone but he had a good idea of where she had gone. She had some misguided notion of saving her ex husband and Miss Fisher. He'd be damned if he'd let that happen.

He made a quick call and waited for his ride. She wouldn't mess this up.

 

***

 

Finally the taxi arrived and Rosie jumped in, giving the driver Miss Fisher's address. She hoped she wasn't too late. When she got close she had the driver let her out halfway down the block. It would do for Earl or even Sidney if he'd discovered she was gone to see her pull up in front of the house. She got out of the taxi and made her way cautiously towards the house. It all looked quiet and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

 

***

 

Sidney got to Miss Fisher's the same time as Rosie, but from a different direction. He found Earl easily enough; he was standing outside the automobile and when questioned, he told Sidney that the Inspector and Miss Fisher were sitting in the automobile in front of the house and that he hadn't seen Rosie.

Sidney pulled another gun from his waistband and nodded towards the house. "Come on, then, let's get this over with." Earl nodded and the two of them made their way closer to the house, being sure to keep to the shadows.

 

***

 

Rosie saw them moving from the opposite direction and panicked. She started to run just as Jack and Miss Fisher alighted from the automobile. She screamed at them to duck, just as shots were fired. 

Jack screamed and fell to his knees right before Phryne collapsed, hitting the sidewalk hard. Rosie continued to run and felt two bullets tear into her body before blackness took her and she fell to the ground. Her unblinking eyes looked up into the blackness of the night.

To be continued…


	15. Chapter 15

Sidney watched as Rosie ran towards Jack Robinson, screaming and calling out to him and Miss Fisher. He heard Earl's gun go off and saw Jack Robinson go down as he fired as well. Phryne Fisher was next to fall and yet Rosie was still running hard towards them trying desperately to save them. For a moment he felt a sharp pain stab at his heart like a razor sharp dagger; this was her ultimate betrayal. His hand shook for a moment before he steadied it and fired twice. He watched as the woman he loved fell to the ground; a clean sweep of the three who had betrayed him. It pained him more than he could express, but she wasn't with him any longer. Perhaps she never had been actually. 

He now noticed that another auto had pulled up behind Robinson's and he took off running, making it to the automobile that was waiting for him on the next street. As he jumped in and barked orders to the driver he closed a chapter on his life. It was time to look out for himself now.

 

***

 

Hugh saw the flashes from the guns as he stopped his automobile. Next to the Inspectors car he saw both the Inspector and then Miss Fisher fall to the pavement, followed quickly by another woman. He didn't think, only took off running after whoever was in the shadows, shooting the gun. He knew that Dot and Mr. Butler would see to the Inspector and Miss Fisher. He was going to catch the bastard that did this.

He ran hard and had almost caught up with the assailant when the man tripped and fell to the ground. Hugh heard the gun go off one final time and when he caught up to the man and turned him over he saw that the man had shot himself in the chest. He wasn't breathing, which meant that he couldn't give them any answers. It had to be Sidney Fletcher who was behind this, but who was this bloke? He was positive that he'd seen flashes from two guns, so the other shooter had escaped. Hugh checked this one for a pulse and finding none left him and headed back to check on the others. What he found was worse than he could imagine.

 

***

 

Jack felt the intense pain that seared through his arm; it hurt like hell but it was only a flesh wound. The unexpectedness of it tore a curse out of him and made him fall to his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. 

He yelled "Phryne, get DOWN!" and turned to look at her, only to see that she was already on the ground. He crawled to her, staying as low as he could and pulled her to him, suddenly realizing that she wasn't moving. He looked at her, not seeing a wound and softly called her name as Miss Williams and Mr. Butler both got to them, each kneeling on the pavement. "Phryne?" he said, concerned that she hadn't spoken yet.

"Miss?" Dot said, looking at Phryne with a speculative eye. She heard Mr. Butler draw in a troubled breath and looked to where he was pointing and fear struck her hard; her breath hitched in her throat and she was sure her heart would beat out of her chest.

There was blood on the sleeve of the Inspectors coat, on the opposite arm as his wound. "Inspector? Her head…"

Jack looked down and saw the reddened stain that was covering the sleeve of his overcoat. "Phryne?" he said again, trying to see where she was bleeding. He turned her head just as Hugh ran up to them, telling him that the assailant was dead. 

Hugh quickly summed up what the problem was and watched as the doctor's vehicle pulled up. "Dr. Mac, here, hurry!" he yelled, pointing in desperation to Phryne who was cradled in Jack's arms.

Mac saw the as yet unidentified female's body on the sidewalk and then Jack and Phryne, surrounded by Dot, Hugh and Mr. Butler. She grabbed her bag from the car and ran to them, telling Mr. Butler to call for an ambulance. She heard Hugh add "And the police," as she dropped to her knees to see what was wrong. She quickly spied Jack's arm and knew that it wasn't that bad. It was Phryne who was scaring her because even in the shadows of the night she was ghastly pale.

She turned Phryne over and saw that there didn't seem to be a wound on the back of her head and started searching through her hair for the problem. She lifted the hair decoration that Phryne was wearing and found the problem. Phryne had been shot in the head.

The brain is an amazing organ, it can do miraculous things, but it doesn't generally bleed much because there aren't that many blood vessels, especially in the temporal lobe. However, most of the ones that were there were major but luckily the bullet hadn't hit one. 

There was much that science didn't know about the brain; as she carefully lifted Phryne's hair away from the wound she couldn't tell whether or not the wound was deep or shallow. Too much hair and not enough light; only at the hospital would they be able to tell that. 

"Is she going to be okay?" Jack asked, pain etched upon his face and Mac knew that it wasn't from his wound. 

"I don't know. There is a bullet in her head; I don't know how deep it is. We have to get her to hospital. We can use an X-ray machine to get a better look."

"What is that?" he asked. 

"It's a machine that will take a picture of what is inside her."

"I've never heard of that. Can the bullet be removed?"

"I…I don't know, Jack."

A sudden thought occurred to Jack and he choked out the words to his query. "Will she live?"  
"I don't know that either. It's too early to tell." She reached out and touched his hand and said, "I'm sorry, Jack. This is the best I can do without being in hospital."

He nodded and was unashamed of the tears that ran unchecked down his face. He heard a small sob come from Dot and realized she too was crying. 

Hugh had gone to check on the other woman whom he finally realized was Rosie Sanderson. She too was dead and he shook his head slightly at the dreadful ending to this nights festivities. He heard the sirens of the ambulance and saw it pull up in front of the house. A moment later the police arrived and he watched as Miss Fisher was loaded into the ambulance, followed by the Inspector who refused to leave her. He told the police what had happened, directing them the body of the man down the sidewalk as well as Miss Sanderson's. Dot came to him and said she was riding to hospital with the doctor. Mr. B was staying here for now to be of help if he could.

Bert pulled up a few minutes later and was shocked at the scene and Hugh saw the older man's anguish as he heard the news about Miss Fisher. Hugh looked away to give Bert a moment of privacy as tears sprung to the man's eyes.

No one knew who the mystery man was, but with hope they might identify him later. For now, the crime scene was abandoned and Hugh, Mr. Butler and Bert headed to the private hospital where they had taken Phryne and Jack.

 

***

 

Sidney Fletcher was now a ship without a rudder; his Rosie was gone. By his own hand, but she'd forced it; he couldn't let her get to Robinson and tell him everything she knew. 

From what he could see Jack Robinson wasn't dead; a fact that irritated Sidney to no end. The Inspector wouldn't stop until he discovered the truth, until he knew who was behind the assassination attempt. He took solace in the joy that seeing Phryne Fisher go down gave him; he knew she was dead. But Jack would be a problem and Sidney needed to escalate his plans to get out of Melbourne, he needed out tonight if it were possible.

He went back to the safe house to wait for Earl; it was Earl's cousin who was ferrying him out of Melbourne and he'd been paid handsomely for it. Sidney didn't have any information about that, Patch wouldn't tell them the name of the boat, he said it was safer that way. They couldn't tell what they didn't know if they got caught. Obviously Patch made a living getting people out of the country and guarded his livelihood closely. 

Sidney scrounged in the kitchen, looking for a bite of something, anything at this point. He was hungry but all he could find was the stale biscuits and decided they were better than nothing. He'd wash them down with some tea, it would have to do.

He settled down to wait for Earl then, sipping his tea. He had no idea he'd be waiting forever.

 

***

 

All the way to the hospital Jack prayed to a god he wasn't sure existed for Phryne to be okay, to live, no matter what. He offered to trade his life for hers if god would only accept it. 

They were going to a private hospital, Higgins-Bath, one where Mac had privileges. Phryne would get the best of care there, no matter the cost. Once they were there everything happened incredibly fast; Phryne was whisked away as was he, but he was sent to a different area where his wound could be looked after. 

He was full of impatience as the nurse cleaned out the bullet hole on his upper arm. It had torn though muscle and when the doctor sewed it up he warned that Jack needed to keep it immobilized because it was going to be frightfully tender. Jack didn't care; the only thought he had was to get to Phryne. Thankfully the doctor, whose name Jack either forgot or didn't hear in his panic was very kind and showed him to the area where Phryne was being treated.

As he stepped into the room he saw Mac and another doctor conferring over her wound. "Mac? Um, Dr. Macmillan? Do you know anything yet?"

Mac stepped closer to him, frowning slightly. He should be in the waiting lounge, resting but she knew better than to suggest it. "Jack," she said, nodding to him. "We are getting her ready to go to X-ray. We'll know more then. Why don't you have a seat," she told him, indicating a chair in the room.

He said nothing to her, only shook his head mutely. His eyes stayed focused on Phryne and Mac sighed and led him over to the bed. "May I touch her hand? Talk to her?"

Mac and the other doctor locked eyes for a moment and then she nodded. "You may. She likely can't hear you though, Jack."

"I don't care. In case she can, I want her to know that I love her, that I'm with her."

"Fair enough. Jack, this is Dr. Harrison. He is a specialist in head injuries. He'll be treating Phryne."

Jack glanced at Dr. Harrison and nodded briefly before looking down at his love. She was still terribly pale and her hand felt icy as well. He wanted to touch her face but was afraid to do so. "Does, um, did she lose a lot of blood? Is that why she is so cold?"

"Not really, no. But her body is in shock, Mr, er?" Dr. Harrison raised an eyebrow to Mac who introduced him to Jack. 

"This is Inspector Jack Robinson, Miss Fisher's fiancé, actually." She indicated the ring on Phryne's finger and the doctor followed her eyes down to the patient's finger and nodded.

Normally the hospital didn't allow people in the room who weren't family, but he could tell that the Inspector wasn't going to leave so he kept his own counsel on the subject. Whether because Jack was the fiancé or a police Inspector was anyone's guess.

Jack appreciated Mac's bit of subterfuge and kept whispering to Phryne that he loved her and that she would be okay. 

The love that this man had for her best friend wasn't unexpected by the good doctor. She'd seen it on his face many times and it was heartbreaking for Mac to hear him express his love and devotion to Phryne. He kept telling her she'd be okay but whether to reassure Phryne, if she were aware of what was happening or to bolster his own spirits she wasn't sure. One glance at Dr. Harrison told her he wasn't either. 

A nurse stepped into the room and said that the X-ray machine was ready; Jack knew he'd have to leave her now. He bent to kiss her chilled lips lightly; the hardest thing he'd ever done was to step away from her. Just as he did, Phryne called out.

"Jack!"

He immediately leaned back down to her. "I'm here, love. Phryne, I'm here." When there was no response he looked up at Mac who smiled softly at him  
.  
"She's still unconscious, Jack. Sometimes patients do that. She's not awake, Jack."

He wiped a hopeful tear from his cheek and let out a breath before nodding in acceptance. 

"We're going to take good care of her, Jack. The best care, I promise," Mac said and indicated he should follow her. She led him down to the waiting lounge, where Dot, Mr. Butler, Bert and Hugh were sitting quietly, each of them afraid to speak.

Mac explained the situation to them and Dot felt more tears sting her eyes as she leaned against Hugh when he wrapped his arm around her. "Now don't go and get all maudlin, Dot. This is Phryne here; she's a born fighter and if anyone can survive this it will be her. Now, has anyone called Mrs. Stanley?" Mac knew that when Prudence arrived things could become more difficult; if certain decisions had to be made, well, legally it would have to be her since she was Phryne's next of kin as her parents weren't here. Mac didn't even want to contemplate that scenario and kept it to herself.

"No, I hadn't thought about it," Mr. Butler said. "Inspector, perhaps you should be the one? Or you Dr. Macmillan?"

Jack nodded, "I'll do it. I'd like to call my mother as well. Is there a private telephone I might use?"

"Yes, Jack. Follow me." 

Jack laid his overcoat on a chair; he'd taken it off so that the doctor could treat his gunshot. His jacket had come off as well as his shirt but he'd put both of those back on, even though they were a mess. He went with Dr. Macmillan down a corridor and stepped into a room and waited as she turned a light on for him.

"Take your time, Jack. She'll likely be in X-ray for a little while."

He nodded and she left him alone. He stared at the telephone for a moment before picking it up. He gave the operator instructions for his parent's number and waited to be connected. When his mother answered he tried to speak, but only a choked sob came out. "Mother? It's Jack. Phryne has been shot, it's bad. Can you come to hospital?"

"Of course. Where are you?" She listened to his directions and added, "We'll be there quickly, son. Do be brave; I'm sure she will be fine."

When he hung up the receiver he broke down and cried, hot tears that stung his eyes and ran in rivulets down his cheeks unchecked. He was terrified; losing Phryne was something that he couldn't contemplate happening. Finally, once his fear had abated a bit he called Mrs. Stanley and again explained the situation. Assured that she too would be there quickly he breathed a sigh at having completed these tasks before heading back to the waiting lounge.

A constable was there, speaking with Hugh and Jack joined them, curious about the conversation. Hugh explained about the man who had fired the shots; he had been pronounced dead and they didn't yet know who he was. The constables at the precinct were going through the books looking for a picture of him so that they might identify him.

Jack took the news of Rosie's death with a strange calm, Hugh thought. Perhaps it was because of the unknown situation with Miss Fisher, but Jack said little when told of Miss Sanderson's death.

In truth, Jack felt a bit numb about Rosie's death; he couldn't imagine what she had been doing there. He'd loved her once, adored her in the way a man does his first real love. It had been a love born of innocence in a way, before life had spun that love out of control and separated the two of them irrevocably by war. He'd never ever wished her harm and after the pain this past 24 hours had brought to her this seemed a cruel and spiteful trick of fate.

Jack paced the room even though there wasn't much room to do so in. His arm ached but he ignored the pain; it was nothing to the pain his heart was experiencing as he waited for information about Phryne.

He looked up expectantly when he heard footsteps outside the waiting lounge; he saw that it was his parents and sister. It wasn't exactly a disappointment, but he had hoped that it was Dr. Macmillan with news about Phryne.

His mother walked directly to him and pulled him into an embrace. She felt him wince and noticed for the first time that his arm was wounded. "Jack! What happened?"

He explained briefly and Amanda asked why he wasn't wearing an arm brace so that he didn't damage it more. He shrugged off her concerns; his worries were for Phryne, not his arm.

He introduced his parents and sister to the group gathered in the small room. His father looked at the pinched look on his sons face, the grim expression and he reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder, the good one. It was a comforting gesture for Jack and he met his father's eyes and saw the sympathy in them; the kindness and love were easy to read.

Jack swallowed hard in response to his family's show of support. He heard footsteps again and looked up to see Mac enter the room, followed by Dr. Harrison, who spoke to the group.

"Miss Fisher has a bullet lodged between her skull and the temporal brain lobe. It doesn't appear to have entered the brain itself, it is only pressing into it. We will need to surgically remove it, as quickly as possible; the quicker we get it out, the less likely we are to have an infection occur."

Jack blanched at the news. He'd been expecting something like this but brain surgery sounded very scary. "How soon after the surgery will we know if she'll be…okay?" he asked them, afraid to hear the answer.

"There isn't an absolute answer to that, Jack," Mac told him. "So much depends on how badly damaged the brain tissue is. Until we get in there to see the extent of the damage, I'm afraid we don't have an answer for you. If you'd like to come with us you can see her for a few minutes while we get her ready for surgery."

Jack nodded and followed them down the hallway that seemed much too long to him, interminably long in fact. Each step took him closer to Phryne and he felt he wanted to run the last few steps, but stayed in pace with both doctors.

In the room he found a nurse preparing to shave Phryne's hair. He looked at Mac, who understood his concern. Phryne loved her tidy little bob and she spoke with the nurse and they decided that if they shaved only a portion of it, that the hair above would cover the spot, mostly. Jack stared at the offending hole in the side of Phryne's head and thought how very small it looked and hoped that was a good thing.

Loud footsteps could be heard coming down the hall and Prudence Stanley stepped into the room, slightly out of breath. She laid a hand over her heart at the sight of her niece, so pale and small on the gurney. "Doctor Macmillan? What is happening?"

Mac explained it all to Prudence who nodded occasionally. She didn't seem to be reassured by the words that were spoken though. Suddenly her eyes lighted on the ring on Phryne's finger. Her eyebrows arched highly and she looked at Jack, clearly demanding an explanation.

Thus far, Jack had told no one that they were engaged. Even now, he didn't want to lie about it but he had the distinct impression that if he didn't Mrs. Stanley would have him removed, something that he wouldn't stand for. So, hating himself a bit he told her, "Yes, I gave her the ring this afternoon." It was the truth, what she inferred from it was something he didn't want to think about.

"I see," she said, but her face told them all that she didn't approve, not at all. "Still, I'm not sure it is entirely appropriate that you're in here now." Her words were clipped, a tone that she used when she would have her way about something. Unfortunately for her, this time it wasn't going to work.

"I am staying, Mrs. Stanley. I love her and I will be here. Please, accept that."

The pain and determination in his voice was clear to understand, even if she didn't want to. She frowned at his total lack of respect for her wishes, but nodded, not willing to make a scene in front of the hospital staff who everyone knew would love to gossip about her kind of people.

Jack realized he had won the battle but knew there was a war ahead. Both he and Mrs. Stanley watched as Phryne was wheeled out of the room on her way to surgery. Mac assured them both that she would let them know when it was done. There was nothing left for them to do but to make their way back to the waiting lounge, saying nothing to one another. It was an uneasy truce at best.

 

To be continued…

 

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: The medical information included in this and coming chapters is the best I could determine from the web. If there are glaring mistakes, they are entirely my own. One note that surprised me - Xray machines were invented in 1895 and were commonly used in the early 20th century. I had no idea!**


	16. Chapter 16

The group in the waiting room was all impatient and restless and very little chatter could be heard. Prudence was a bit taken aback at seeing the Robinson's waiting with the others; it spoke further of the Inspector's relationship with her niece, something that weighed heavily on her mind.

She had been wrong; he came from good family and he was certainly handy to have around when one had an emergency, but that being said, he was still a public servant! In truth, before all of this she had liked and admired the Inspector; she also had to admit that he'd had a positive effect on Phryne, to some small degree that is. She still ran around waving a pistol and totally disregarding social rules, which most likely is what had gotten her into this tight spot. Still, if she was going to continue to do these awful things wasn't it better that the Inspector stood with her?

It was, wasn't it?

She tried to make small talk with the Robinson's but none of them felt interested in the social niceties until they knew Phryne's fate. Prudence wouldn't even consider the fact that her cherished niece could die. Doctor Macmillan, despite certain less than savory aspects in her life would fight for Phryne's life as perhaps another doctor might not. Yes, the good doctor would certainly ensure that Phryne would survive this.

As he watched her, James Robinson realized he was a bit wary of Prudence Stanley; she could be the fiercest of opponents or the finest of allies. It was obvious that she wasn't quite sold on the idea of his son and the Honorable Miss Fisher's attachment. James thought it was a wonderful match; he hadn't met her yet but all evening Elise and Amanda had sung her praises as down to earth and very much in love with his son, attributes that Rosie Sanderson had never completely fulfilled. 

Rosie had been sweet when she and Jack first courted but she didn't have the strength that Jack needed; she worried too much over what would get her ahead in society. He hadn't mourned the end of their marriage to be sure but he certainly didn't wish the young woman dead. He knew that John and Annabelle would bear the brunt of the tragedies that had befallen the Sanderson's this past day. George hadn't awoken from his coma and now Rosie was dead. The whole mess sickened him he decided. And seeing the pain that his son was struggling with right now made him want to grab someone and force them make it right; to bring a happy smile back to his son's face.

Jack had been very happy for many months now, since Miss Fisher had first come into his life. James had often smiled behind the paper, his face hidden as his son had ranted to his mother about the audacity of 'that Fisher woman'. It was apparent to James and Elise that Jack was becoming more and more enchanted by 'that Fisher woman', almost daily in fact. They shared a common social background, even if neither of them was truly cognizant of that fact and he personally liked the way Miss Fisher stood toe to toe with his son. She was exactly what Jack Robinson needed; James could only hope that he hadn't realized that fact too late.

Bert and Mr. Butler had left earlier to fetch refreshments; they returned with tea and sandwiches for the group, and although the tea was appreciated no one seemed interested in the sandwiches but Tobias Butler didn't take that to heart. He noticed, in his usual quiet manner that the Inspector looked pale and a bit shaky and that he would probably benefit from a shower and change of clothes; it might revive his spirits a bit. The same could be said for Dorothy who didn't seem to realize that she'd scrapped her knees badly from kneeling on the pavement earlier. His general impression of the group was one of tight control as each struggled with their own thoughts and fears about what was happening.

Dot held onto her rosary, her lips moving silently as fingers moved tirelessly over the beads praying that her Miss would be okay. Better than okay, actually; Dottie prayed that she would be healed good as new. Hugh kept his arm wrapped around her protectively, trying as hard as he could to give her his warmth and comfort. He even said a prayer or two himself; the Inspector would not be the same without Miss Fisher.

None of them would.

Several of them looked up as Hiram Matlock entered the room. James Robinson rose quickly to his feet and greeted his friend with a handshake. Introductions were made to those whom he did not know and Hiram went to stand by Jack and suddenly felt at a loss for words. Sylvia was at home, worrying about Miss Fisher, whom she adored. Hiram cast a quick look at Prudence and recognized that for once the woman had nothing to say, a fact that slightly relieved Hiram.  
"Jack, I know I don't need to reassure you that we're going to find Sidney Fletcher, but you do have my personal word on it. We'll get him."

Jack looked at him and swallowed hard; a slight, almost imperceptible nod was all the recognition Matlock's pledge received. 

"We know there were two shooters; one dead. We did identify him as Earl Bigelow; we can't tie him directly to Sidney Fletcher, but I've no doubt he works for him. We are looking for possible accomplices of his in the hopes that we'll find Fletcher."

"Two shooter's, you say?" James questioned, frowning slightly. While he was a judge, he had very little knowledge of police methodology and how they would know that there were two guns, unless of course they found two guns at the scene. 

James posed that question and Hiram shook his head and explained, "The gun found on Earl Bigelow's body was a small caliber pistol. A second gun evidently killed Rosie Sanderson; it was a larger caliber, possibly a Webley or something similar. Constable Collins saw the flashes from two separate guns as well but so far searching the second area hasn't turned up any leads. Do you know yet what type of bullet struck you or Miss Fisher?"

"So you are sure there were two guns?" Jack asked, confused about it all. It had happened lightening fast. "The bullet that struck me entered and exited. Possibly we'll know the caliber of bullet that struck Phryne after the surgery." He shrugged despondently; there was nothing more he could say.

Time ticked on interminably; people walked a bit, shifted restlessly in uncomfortable chairs and many deeps sighs were heard by all by the time that Mac and Dr. Harrison stood in the doorway. Jack and Prudence both rose unconsciously to their feet and waited for news. 

Amanda stood on Jack's side and slipped her hand into her big brothers and if she noticed the tremor in it she said nothing. Perhaps it was because she couldn't tell if it was his or hers.

For the life of him Jack couldn't squeeze a single word out of his constricted throat. Prudence seemed just as unable to speak as he it seemed. They waited for the doctors to speak for what seemed like an hour but was actually only breathless moments.

"She's alive," Dr. Harrison said, taking a simple approach. "She's unconscious and might be so for a few hours. The bullet was lodged between her skull and brain tissue, which was a lucky circumstance. Her brain is swollen, putting a great deal of pressure inside her skull, but that is to be expected really. The other issue, perhaps the more troubling one is that when she was struck by the bullet she evidently fell against the pavement. It seriously bruised and lacerated her frontal lobe; that could cause more problems than the bullet at this point." He finished and looked at the group expectantly, waiting for questions.

The whole time he was speaking Jack kept his eyes on Mac, watching her reactions in an effort to determine how hopeful she was, how honest Dr. Harrison was being. She seemed to agree with what Dr. Harrison was saying and Jack felt some small bit of relief about the situation. A sudden thought occurred to him and he voiced the question out loud. "But she will she wake up?" The words were quietly spoken and he denied himself from adding, "Ever."

Prudence nodded her head in agreement at his question and they both waited in breathless anticipation of the answer. Jack noticed suddenly that Mac looked down, no longer meeting his eyes and Jack thought for a moment that his legs might well give out. Amanda noticed and hooked her arm around his waist and felt him lean on her a bit, his only concession to his worry.

"We fully expect that she will; what we don't know is when," Dr. Harrison said, his voice barely rising above the concerned murmur that was circulating around the room. "Dr. Macmillan says that Miss Fisher is a fighter, and that is a good thing." Anticipating the next question, he continued, "We aren't sure how she will be when she does wake up."

"I don't understand what you mean by that, Dr. Harrison," Prudence said, ignoring the pain that tore through her chest at his words. 

Elise saw Prudence falter and pale drastically and she was suddenly at the other woman's side, trying to lead her to a chair to sit down. Prudence seemed unaware of what was happening, of Elise's support. She could only think that she couldn't seem to catch her breath. When they were both seated she felt Elise take her chilled hand into her warm one and Prudence knew that whatever happened, that she was with people who all cared about Phryne, a comfort that she very much needed.

"Mrs. Stanley, when someone has a brain injury, it is often difficult to determine how it will affect them. The brain is still very much a mystery to medical science; what I can say for a certainty is that the tissue around the gunshot, other than being badly bruised looks sufficiently healthy. Hopefully that will be fine, satisfactory. As I stated before, the injury to her frontal lobe might prove a more troublesome injury."

Was it the words that struck fear into Jack's heart or the uncertainty with which they were spoken? "Dr. Harrison, exactly what are you not telling us?" he asked, his voice filled with all the pain that he was feeling. "When she does awaken," he said, "What can we expect?"

Dr. Harrison cleared his throat and it was more of a nervous gesture as opposed to a necessary one. "Injuries in the frontal lobe can sometimes affect speech, muscle control, sensory issues, even memory at times. But right now, all we are focused on is healing her so that she can wake up."

Jack blinked and looked at Mac; her head nodding in agreement with Dr. Harrison. A long and heavy sigh rushed out of Jack and he knew that for at least the time being there wasn't anything else that they could tell them. 

"May I see her?" he asked, hopeful that he could reassure himself that she came out of surgery intact.

Prudence voiced her desire to see her niece as well. Dr. Harrison said, "She will be moved to her room in a little while. When she is settled I'll send a nurse to let you know. You should be prepared when you see her; she is bruised badly, and it will continue to get worse over the next few hours." He nodded once again at the group and then retreated down the hall, his footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet of the night.

Mac sat down with the group; apparently there was nothing more for her to do at the moment other than wait with them which was a thought that was disturbing to both she and Jack. He felt better to know that someone who loved her was with her at all times. He voiced his thoughts out loud and many of the group agreed with him vocally.

"It's just…all we can do is wait," Mac finally said and it was evident to all of them just how worried she was. She wished she dared step out to smoke but at this point she was just as desperate for news as the rest of the group was and didn't want to take a chance on missing something. 

Mr. Butler handed her a cup of hot tea with lemon, just the way she liked it. He smiled kindly at her and murmured, "If you don't want to drink it at least you have something in your hands." He had recognized her fidgeting and realized that she needed something to help alleviate her nervousness. She smiled her gratitude at him and took a sip and sighed as the warm liquid spread through her, almost immediately making her feel better. She took another, longer sip and sat back in the chair and closed her eyes for a moment, mentally calming herself.  
It was all she could do.

 

***

 

Sidney began to grow alarmed when Earl didn't make it back to the safe house by midnight. Even if he'd had to wait until the police left the scene he should have been back here by now. 

Which left two rather unappealing scenarios: He'd been caught or he'd been killed by the constables. As he ran from the scene after shooting Rosie he'd heard one more shot, surely it couldn't be that one shot had killed him? 

No, more likely he'd been nabbed by the coppers. He'd need to have Rudy, one of his other associates nose around and see what he could find out. Sidney walked into the kitchen and saw Rudy asleep at the table and kicked at the chair, jarring him awake.

"Hey, whatcha go and do that fer?" Rudy said, running a dirty hand down over his face. 

Sidney shuddered at the lackadaisical hygiene of his employees. Really, was it that hard to bathe daily? It's not like they hadn't any free time; it was usually hurry up and wait. Perhaps in Singapore he'd need to see to hiring better employees, or maybe they at least believed in bathing there. 

"Earl isn't back yet. I need you to go and snoop around a bit and see if you can find out what happened to him." When Rudy nodded lethargically and settled back down into the hard, wooden chair Sidney kicked it again, harder this time and it almost unseated the tired man. 

"Now!"

"Whatcha expect me to find out at this time o' the night, boss? Not like I can go marching into the police station and ask 'em."

Sidney leaned down and said in a growl, "That is precisely what I expect." For a brief moment he smiled before bellowing, "NOW!"

Rudy jumped to his feet, knocking the chair over behind him. He pulled his hat down on his head and Sidney ignored the mumbles as he headed out the back door. When he heard the car engine start he headed into his room and sat down in the only chair in the room and let himself think about Rosie.

He'd loved her forever it seemed. They'd been childhood allies, two peas in a pod, always on the verge of trouble their parents had always said. Rosie had been a light in his life, never dimming, always ready for an adventure with him.

Until Jack Robinson came along. Was he dead? Sidney had watched as both he and Phryne Fisher fell down as Earl shot them, but he didn't really know if they died as a result of the shots. It wasn't right if they'd survived and his beautiful Rosie hadn't. 

He didn't know how he would live without her; how horribly tedious his life would be without her smile and laughter making him feel strong and powerful. In his mind, he had already justified his murder of the woman he loved; he told himself that she would have wanted him to start a new life, even without her. He forgave her for trying to warn Robinson, he did, but it still hurt him. He vowed that if Robinson and Fisher lived, he'd make sure that they died before he left, even if it took a few extra days here. He owed that to Rosie, so that she hadn't died in vain.  
It would be worth it. 

Sadly, he didn't see the flaw in his logic.

 

***

 

A half hour went by before the nurse came to get them. Jack, Mac and Prudence all rose to their feet, ready to follow her to Phryne's room. If she was a bit shocked at the large group waiting for word on her patient she didn't show it. She addressed Mac as they headed down a hallway and up a flight of stairs.

"She is a bit restless, Dr. Macmillan. As yet she has showed no signs of waking up though."

"Thank you, Nurse Pratter. I know that you'll take excellent care of Miss Fisher." They walked sedately up the stairs in deference to Prudence but both Jack and Mac felt like taking the steps two at a time. They traversed a long hallway that was dimly lit, most likely a consideration of the time of night. Most patient doors were closed and all was quiet, until they got to Phryne's room.

All of them heard her, even before Nurse Pratter opened the door. Phryne was moving, on the bed, her body seeming to twist with a volition all its own. She was calling for Jack, his name spoken loudly, over and over.

"I'm here, Phryne, I'm here," he told her, taking hold of her hand only to have it wrenched away again as quickly as he had taken it. 

She wasn't awake yet, that much was clear. What was appalling was how she looked. All of her hair had been shaved off and bandages swathed her head securely in an effort to keep the wound clean. But the hardest part of all was seeing how badly bruised she was. The right side of her face was vividly black and purple and her eyes had seemed to sink into their sockets. 

Prudence let out a horrified cry, and tears sprung to her eyes at the sight of her beautiful niece, so badly hurt. She laid her hand on Phryne's shoulder and murmured soft words of comfort to her, words that were unheard by Phryne.

She looked across the bed, to the man who Prudence instinctively knew would stand by Phryne no matter what. That was the moment that Prudence knew that her niece had chosen wisely. The anguish displayed on his face spoke volumes she acknowledged. 

Mac had already seen her so she focused on reading the most current notes on the chart. Nothing new really but it gave Jack and Prudence a few moments to take it all in. Mac knew that bruises would fade, hair would grow back; these were only cosmetic issues and were much harder on the family to deal with than the patient most of the time. While Phryne did take her appearance seriously, never wanting to be without her powder or perfume, she also knew that her friend had an incredible sense of humor and would take it in stride, accepting that nothing was forever.

Mac could only hope that was true, that Phryne would wake up; that she would be okay.  
However, only time would tell.

 

To be continued…

**I would like to sincerely thank Ariadne04 for her help with this story. A gifted neurosurgeon, she has provided much appreciated and needed advice. The brain is a complicated organ, without her help this might not come together half so well. I have taken a bit of creative license here and there so please forgive me. This is a work of fiction after all!**


	17. Chapter 17

Annabelle Sanderson Barrington sat in the darkened hospital room where her father had been these last 24 hours. The chair was vastly uncomfortable she thought, shifting yet again and realized that it really wasn't the chair so much as it was her. 

Annabelle had always been a strong woman, she'd had to be. Rosie had always been what her stepmother had called a 'handful' and so from her youngest years she had chased her exuberant sister around, trying to stay out of the ever-watchful and critical eye of their stepmother. Their own mother had died when Annabelle was 3 and Rosie only a year old. Their father had remarried soon after that; after all, a police constable had little time to care for two toddlers. But it seemed as if their stepmother felt the same way. 

"Don't touch me! Your hands are filthy! Are you both the spawn of demons? Can't you behave?" Such things were often heard around the Sanderson home; where their stepmother was concerned the old axiom was the best advice: Children should be seen and not heard. Of course she didn't want them to be seen either.

Except when George Sanderson was in residence of course. At that point she suddenly became the world's most loving stepparent, positively doting on the girls. As they reached their teen years it became clearly obvious to Annabelle that Marguerite Sanderson was intensely jealous of both girls who both favored their late mother and made George beam with pride at their accomplishments. Rosie in particular had been the apple of his eye, but Annabelle never minded that much. Rosie seemed to need the lavish attention he showered on her sister; Annabelle felt that she must have not done enough, been a caring enough sister to Rosie because she seemed to need that constant attention. 

Attention that Marguerite clearly had no intention of giving her. Eventually of course, George saw what was happening between his wife and daughters. Those years had been such a struggle for them all; George climbed the ladder quickly, rising through the ranks of the Victorian Constabulary with a speed that many an officer was envious of. Still, as his pay increased, so did his duties, leaving Marguerite alone more and more, except to basically motherless girls who looked at their father with love and devotion and their stepmother with disdain. 

Finally Marguerite had enough; after an argument of monumental proportions she left one night, literally walked out on her life. Annabelle was 16 at the time and thought perhaps her stepmother had a lover and ran away with him. At any rate she never returned home again and eventually life settled down as Annabelle took over the household duties with very little fuss and a great deal of accomplishment. 

She met John Barrington when she was 18, at a lawn party for her best friend's birthday. It was as close to love at first sight as anyone could ever have she often thought. Their eyes met over cups of fruit punch and from that very moment they both knew they were meant for one another. Soon after they began to court and within a year John had asked George for Annabelle's hand in marriage, which was happily granted. They were married 5 months later and since then not a day had gone by that she didn't thank God for the joy that her marriage had brought her. 

John was a loving and faithful husband and father; it was common for him to bring her little trinkets of his love and devotion or sometimes she would find tender little love notes tucked away in unexpected places. No woman had ever felt more cherished than she; she was a very lucky woman and knew it.

All those years of happiness had left her mentally holding her breath in many ways; waiting for something terrible to befall them and it had finally happened. Her father had been disgraced in the most public of ways as had Rosie, who was now dead. 

In truth Annabelle wasn't sure which hurt more; she'd cried more than she ever imagined over this tragic turn of events. All those tears that had never been shed, never needed to be shed had come in torrents and she felt as if her grief was as deep as an ocean.

She looked up as John came into the room. He carried a small basket with him and sat it on a small table near the bed. "Annie, my sweet, you need to eat. See, I've brought you some shepherd's pie and blueberry tarts. Come, love, you need to eat something."

She smiled gratefully at him and when she looked up at him he was taken aback at her pallor except for the dark circles about her eyes. She hastily looked down, aware of just how awful she looked.

"Will you sit with father for a few minutes while I wash up?" At his nod she stood up gratefully and felt how stiff she felt. Her muscles and limbs stretched painfully and she was positive she heard her back pop. She gave her husband another faltering smile and left for the lavatory.

Inside the door she felt for the light and the starkly white room was almost blinding as the overhead light came on. She blinked a couple of times allowing her eyes to adjust to the harsh intensity of the glaring light and then took a look at herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. She really did look as bad as she thought. She'd not slept at all last night really, only tossed and turned fitfully; keeping John awake she was sure. Before dawn she'd finally ceased the torture of her bed and rose to take a bath and dress for the day.

Her darling sister, who drove her positively around the bend, was dead. Sidney Fletcher was mixed up in it to be sure; Annabelle wasn't sure how, but he was. Hiram Matlock had come to tell her personally this evening and he agreed with her, Fletcher was to blame. Hiram had assured her they would find him and she knew that he'd move heaven and earth to do so.

Annabelle splashed cold water over her face and let it run over her hands and wrists in an effort to calm her emotions. She wanted to scream, to throw something, to lash out at the world, but she was a lady, so instead she took another look in the mirror, tried to pinch a bit of color into her cheeks and straightened her hair as best as she could before going back to her father's bedside. 

In the room she saw John standing over the bed which puzzled her. She then noticed that her father was moving in the bed and John was trying to settle him down. Annabelle immediately called for a nurse, who came quickly, and she and John stood motionless as George finally opened his eyes, staring with an unfocused gaze around the room.

"Father? Father, its Annabelle," she said when her called out for her. "I'm here, Father."  
"Annabelle? Where's my glasses? I can't see a damn thing!"

Annabelle let out a strained laugh, though she excused it because he was asking for his glasses; he was okay. The doctors warnings about the repercussions to his apoplexy were unwarranted, it seemed. 

"They were broken when you fell, at, in the gaol, Father."

"I have a spare pair at home, I need them. Go and get them," he demanded. He looked around and blinked, trying to focus his eyes. "Why am I in hospital?" George looked around him and though he couldn't see many details, he had no doubt as to where he was; no place on earth smelled like a hospital.

"I, well yes, certainly I will. We'll get your glasses." She looked up as the nurse came back in quickly followed by the doctor. She had left the room as soon as he'd awoken and the doctor asked her and John to step aside so he could examine George.

A few minutes later he finished his exam and said, "Mr. Sanderson, you seem to have a bit of minor paralysis on your left side. But otherwise, you are in fine shape, which considering the severity of your symptoms amazes me. With some practice I believe you can regain the strength in your hand and arm. Until we have you try walking we can't tell as much about your leg, but your reactive responses seem a bit slow there as well."

"I had apoplexy? A fit?"

"Yes, apoplexy, but not a fit sir. A blood vessel in your head burst, rendering you unconscious. It would seem that it hasn't impaired your linguistic or cognitive centers of the brain though, which is remarkable."

George frowned; he hated not being able to see properly. "Annabelle, call Rosie and ask her to fetch my glasses immediately."

Annabelle cast a worried look at John, not sure what to say to him. The doctor, unaware of the situation said, "That would be fine, he'll feel more comfortable if he can see properly."

John spoke up then and said, "George, I'll go and get them. I need to stretch my legs. I'll be back shortly."

George looked at Annabelle who he saw only as a blurry shadow against the wall and said, "Nonsense! Where is Rosie? Why isn't she here?"

John had already left and Annabelle struggled with her answer. Was it better to just tell him, or to evade the question? That strategy had never worked with him in their youth; you could never stall a constable he'd always said. She didn't know what to do and tried to stifle a sob that unexpectedly tore at her throat.

"Annabelle? What is wrong? Where is Rosie?"

"Father, I don't know how to tell you this…Rosie, um, Rosie was killed last night. Sidney Fletcher escaped from gaol and went after Jack and Miss Fisher. We don't know exactly what happened or how it happened, but Rosie evidently went to Miss Fisher's home to try and stop Sidney and she was shot. Most likely by Sidney himself." 

It was just as well that George couldn't see his remaining daughter's face as it was again streaked with tears. Her face felt raw from all the salty tears in fact and she pulled out her handkerchief to wipe them away yet again. She eyed her father as she did so, waiting for his reaction to the news of his youngest daughter's death.

George had gone completely white and the doctor immediately used his stethoscope to check his heart. George tried to push him away before the stinging tears slipped down his face; his beloved Rosie, dead by the hand of Sidney Fletcher. Would this nightmare ever end? That snake, Sidney Fletcher had stripped every joy, every happiness from his life, wrecked havoc within his family. Suddenly life didn't really seem worth living.

 

***

 

Jack and Prudence were quiet as they watched over Phryne; Jack standing next to her bed and Prudence seated by it. Both of them were worried and their eyes often met over the bed, their concern clearly written on their tense faces.

Dr. Harrison came in again and examined Phryne, checking her pulse, listening to her heart, examining her wounds. He wore a frown of concentration on his face as he went through what was clearly a practiced routine. Jack watched him, hopeful that he would see some type of sign that Phryne was improving, but there was none.

Phryne's body seemed very restless and she often moaned and had called out for Jack several times. All he could do was hold her hand and assure her that he was here, that he wouldn't leave her. 

The matron nurse came around and told them that the visiting hours were over, had been over for several hours and that they simply must go. Jack stood his ground and said, "I am not leaving her." Both the doctor and matron realized that he meant what he said.

Prudence recognized it as well. "Inspector, if you stay with her tonight I shall come back in the morning and you can go and refresh yourself then. Is that agreeable to you?"

Jack nodded gratefully, "It is, Mrs. Stanley. Shall we go to the waiting lounge and let everyone know what is happening right now?"

"Yes, I think that is a very good idea."

In the hall they saw Mac and let her know what was happening. It was unusual for someone to stay with a patient overnight but she knew that it would be useless to try to persuade Jack to leave. She herself was going to stay in the doctors lounge overnight because she wanted to be near and keep a watchful eye on Phryne. She watched Jack and Prudence walk down the hall and couldn't help the smile that came to her face as she listened to their conversation. People could be amazing in times of crisis.

Jack offered his arm to Prudence who gratefully accepted it. "Thank you, Inspector."

"You're quite welcome, Mrs. Stanley. Please, call me Jack."

For a moment Prudence was taken aback. Surely it wasn't proper? But in this circumstance, hopefully propriety could be eased, just the tiniest bit. "Of course, Jack. Please call me Aunt Prudence, or Prudence if you prefer? We're going to be family after all."

Jack quickly glanced away, hoping she hadn't caught the momentary flash of guilt that crossed his face. "If you wish, Au…Prudence," he stammered. It didn't feel right to call her 'Aunt', perhaps it never would.

Mac headed into the doctor's lounge as an idea came to her. She asked an orderly for help and nodded as they moved one of the cots from the doctors lounge into Phryne's room. Jack might not use it at all, but if he needed it, it would be there for him.

In the lounge everyone had questions - how was she, was she awake, how did she look. Jack and Prudence answered as many as they could and both of them realized that it all sounded very grim, a bit hopeless at this point and yet neither or them gave up any hope.

"I'm staying here tonight with her; Prudence will come back in the morning so that I can go home and shower and change." Prudence nodded in accord of his words and if anyone was surprised at his informal use of her name they didn’t show it.

The group trickled out and Jack tried not to be impatient for them all to leave so that he could get back to Phryne.

Dot and Hugh told him they would be back in the morning as well and that Hugh would take him to Phryne's to change clothes and get his automobile. He nodded and could barely stand to see the looks of concern that was written so starkly on their faces. His parents were the last to depart and his mother held him tightly for a minute, assuring him that Phryne would be fine, after a bit of recovery.

"She's a fighter, Jack. I saw that for myself this morning. Do not underestimate her. Your Miss Fisher will be right as rain in no time at all!"

Jack held back his doubts; he knew better than to disagree with him mother and there was a strange comfort in her words, a possibility that she might be correct. Even a small chance at this point seemed better than what his fears were trying to convince him of.

He nodded mutely, afraid to speak because the lump that was in his throat threatened to break lose at any moment. His father saw how his son was struggling and pulled him into a hug. As Jack broke down he motioned for Elise and Amanda to wait in the hallway and just held his son for a minute. Grief such as this was private to a man; Jack needed to let it out and have time to move past it without an audience. As much as James loved his wife she would have surged towards Jack, all comforting gestures and kind words and that wasn't what Jack needed right now.

When the storm of tears finally passed James moved away and handed Jack his handkerchief and gave his son another moment to collect himself. Then he laid his hand on his son's shoulder, a demonstration of solidarity between the men; Jack finally nodded and headed to the hallways where his mother and sister waited for them. 

Elise took one look at her son and started to say something but James, standing behind his son adamantly shook his head no, so she kissed him on the cheek and murmured, "I love you, Jack. I'll see you tomorrow." Amanda followed suit and soon they were walking towards the door, with Jack almost sprinting upstairs in order to reach Phryne more quickly.

Mac was back in the room, sitting in a chair as he entered the room. One look at her pale face told Jack that she was worried as well. He stood by the bed opposite her and took Phryne's hand in his and softly stroked her fingers with his own. Her hand felt terribly cold to him and he spoke as much to Mac.

Mac sort of shrugged it off and said, "She's had a major surgery, Jack, it isn't unusual."

"Is she in shock?"

"No, not really. Actually, the human body is amazing; it has a way of utilizing resources to help itself heal. I suspect it is doing that. At this point, it isn't something to be concerned about."

"Then what should I be concerned about?" he asked and found he was holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

"Infection, that's the major concern now. Infection could prove deadly, Jack."  
He closed his eyes and almost slumped against the bed; infection was always a worry in any illness. He hadn't even considered it yet. 

"Jack, Dr. Harrison is the best specialist in Melbourne; you need to have faith in that."

"It's…hard, Mac. Very hard."

"I know. But you're not alone. We'll get our girl through this, no matter what."

Jack could only nod and hope that she was right.

 

To be continued…


	18. Chapter 18

At Phryne's house a solemn group pulled up in Hugh's car. Bert had gone to his boarding house and Mr. Butler rode with Dorothy and Hugh. The three of them drank a cup of tea at the kitchen table and the quiet was broken occasionally by a few words, spoken in hope or fear.   
Mr. Butler finally excused himself to his bed and Dorothy and Hugh walked into the front hall so they could say their goodbyes.

Hugh kissed her lightly and then looked worried as she broke down and cried against his shoulder. It wasn't like Dottie to cry much at all, but this sobbing was tearing his heart out.

"Hey, Dottie, it's alright. I'm here," he murmured against her hair while he patted her back in futile consolation. Futile because it wasn't helping one bit, in fact it seemed to make it worse. In desperation he picked her up and went into the parlor and sat down and held her in his arms, letting her cry it out.

Dottie loved Miss Fisher with all her heart and they both knew that had she not come along when she did they might never have met; worse still, Dorothy might have ended up on the streets or in the convent. When her tears seemed to be abating a bit he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her to dry her tears with.

"Hugh, don't leave tonight. Stay here, please."

Hugh stood up immediately, practically dumping Dottie on the floor. "Dottie!" he stammered, shocked at her words.

"I don't mean with me; in a spare room. It would be comforting for me know you are close, Hugh. Mr. Butler is here as well."

"Dottie, it's not proper; the neighbors will know. I can't." He watched as her lower lip began to tremble and sighed. "Alright, Dottie. Let's lock up and you can show me a room to sleep in. I want you to be able to rest tonight."

Hugh spent the night a mere 15 feet away from the woman he loved and desired. But it made her happy and that was all that mattered, at least he kept telling himself that. It was hard to lay there in his bed and hear her when she moved around in her bed.

He told himself that it was perverted to desire her after all that she was going through with Miss Fisher. He tried thinking about his mum and how ashamed she would be to know that her only son was fighting off carnal thoughts about a woman; even if it were the woman he was going to marry.

Thoughts of his mother upset him at the best of times. She was more than angry since he'd told her he was converting to Catholicism so that he could marry Dottie. In his heart he feared that his mum would never forgive Dottie; he wasn't even sure she'd ever forgive him. She'd certainly never forget; this was an affront to her basic Christianity. The inspector told him that once there were children that it would help smooth things a bit but Hugh still wasn't sure about that. The thing was, before he'd told her that Dottie was a Catholic she had liked her. He'd tried to ease his mum into the situation, but it hadn't helped a bit. Now, she barely spoke to him when he mentioned Dottie and if Dottie was with him she wouldn't even look at either of them.

He heard Dottie's bed creak again and tried to block the sound out. He pulled a pillow over his head and tried singing a nursery song to change the direction his thoughts were taking. He was a very bad man for the thoughts he had, especially in the light of the seriousness of the situation.

He finally fell asleep a little while later and tossed restlessly. When he woke up he saw the evidence of his dreams, waving proudly in front of him and muttered a curse that Dottie would have been shocked to hear.

When he made his way downstairs he smelled breakfast cooking. Mr. Butler was at the stove when he entered the kitchen and Dottie was slicing bread at the table. She looked up as he came in and he could tell by her pale and drawn face that she hadn't slept well either. 

Mr. Butler silently handed him a mug of tea but gave him a small smile that he hoped would help ease the younger man's embarrassment at Tobias knowing that he'd spent the night here. He knew that the young constable had slept in a separate bedroom, but he also knew that he'd not slept well. That room was directly above his own and bed springs make a lot of noise when you're tossing and turning.

 

***

 

Jack and Mac continued their vigil, speaking at times and at others silent. Jack saw Mac looking at the ring on Phryne's finger and felt a rush of guilt sweep over him.

He cleared his throat and said, "We're not really engaged you know." He hoped that admitting the truth would lift the burden of deceit from him but it didn't really help.

Mac's mouth twitched up at the corner's as she looked at Jack. "You think not?"

"No, she agreed to wear it as a symbol of the love we share, that's all." The words almost hurt him to admit, like a knife stabbing at his heart.

Mac laughed out loud then and Jack stared at her as if she'd gone round the bend. "Jack, you know her well enough to know that she doesn't do anything she doesn't want. She knows what that ring means and I'd bet that you didn't have to convince her to agree to wear it. Tell me I'm wrong but I'll be it was her idea, wasn't it?"

Jack started to deny her words but then the memory of the conversation came back to him and he realized, possibly for the very first time that it really was Phryne's idea. It couldn't be, could it? She wanted to marry him, at least at some time?

"You know I'm right, don't you? Jack, she's unconventional as hell, but it's my belief that she is so in love with you that she won't mind marrying you one bit."

Jack shook his head in denial. Yes, she was unconventional and marriage and commitment didn't suit her; she'd proven that many a time. "No, she'll never want to do that and I'll never ask her to."

"Because you're afraid she'll say yes or afraid she'll say no?" Mac's eyes sparkled with humor a bit as she watched Jack as he searched for an answer. "If she says yes you'll be worried that she only did it to please you; if she says no, you'll feel horrible because she'll know that you really want to marry her. But you needn't worry about it. She might not yet be ready to admit it but she's ready to marry you. You'll just have to trust me on it," she told him as he began to protest.

"I can't believe that. She's…she's ran from any commitment as far as I can tell."  
"No, she ran from men who wanted to corner her, to take away her independence. Jack, that's not something you've ever done. Quite the opposite in fact. When you tried to end your relationship did she allow that?"

He opened his mouth to deny her words but then closed it just as quickly. She was right about that; even when she knew that it pained him to have her close she only retreated enough to allow him a bit of space. She never went away and blast the woman, she knew exactly what she was doing! Strangely though, it hadn't really angered him; he didn't want her gone, not really. He'd just needed a bit of time to regroup and collect himself before they continued on. In the end, it hadn't felt as if they had ever been apart at all.

He realized that Mac was waiting for his answer and he met her gaze evenly across the bed. "You are quite right, Doctor. Maybe she does want to marry me, eventually."  
Mac nodded and the two shared a bit of a conspiratory smile that helped them both to relax a bit. A few minutes later the matron came in carrying a tray with a pot of tea and the both smiled at her in thanks.   
Mac looked at him over the rim of the cup and said, "We'll just keep this conversation our secret. Wouldn't do to let Prudence in on it. Oh, that's Aunt Prudence to you! Jack, however did you manage that?"

He smiled and said, "I haven't the faintest idea to tell you the truth. But I'll not say a word. If she finds out she's likely to order my execution."

"At the very least," Mac agreed dryly.

At two in the morning Mac stood up and said, "I'm going to go and try and sleep a couple of hours. Jack as your physician I'd recommend you do the same thing."

"I don't think I can," he said softly, his voice full of sorrowfully.

"Well, you have the cot, give it a shot." She smiled at her unintentional rhyme. "I'm tired, what can I say?" She gave him a brief nod and left him alone in the room.

He stood up again and walked around the room, stopping every few steps to glance back at Phryne. She was still a bit restless, but showed no apparent signs of waking up which might not be a worry for the doctors but it definitely worried him. This had to be the longest the woman had ever stayed put he decided.

Mac came back into the room carrying a brace for his arm and a bottle of some pills. "Do you still have any tea left?" At his affirmative nod she opened the bottle and took out two tablets and handed them to him. "For the pain." 

He protested that he didn't feel any pain, which was probably true at this point. He was focused on Phryne, not his own injury but Mac knew that by morning his arm was going to be hurting badly. She watched as he took the pills, mostly because he seemed afraid of what she'd do if he didn't. He stayed silent as she slipped his arm into the brace and adjusted it as best she could to keep his arm still.

"You'll thank me in the morning. Now, again I'll caution you to try and rest."

He nodded at her as she again left the room. He began pacing again and tried to tell himself that Phryne would be okay. He just had to believe that, keep repeating it. He stopped next to the bed and looked down at his love. She looked so small, so fragile. The bandage that wrapped around her head and the bruises that continued to develop on her face positively scared him to death. His heart clutched and his breath caught in his throat as she mumbled his name again. He sat down next to her on the bed after looking out the door to make sure the matron wasn't watching him. He felt as if he were a youth, sneaking into a peep show. If she caught him the matron would definitely not go easy on him he was sure. 

He stroked her arm and it seemed to settle her a bit; it seemed natural for him to lie next to her, just for a little bit. She seemed to settle even more. Maybe it was the warmth of his body, he really wasn’t sure. He tried to make himself comfortable without encroaching on her; he didn't want to bump into her and cause her any further harm.

An hour later the matron stepped into the room to check on her patient and found Jack, fast asleep on the bed with Phryne. The patient wore a slight smile. Was it possible she knew her fiancé was with her? Anything was possible the matron decided and left the two of them to rest. Things were likely to get worse before they got better. Head injuries were a tricky business.

 

***

 

At six in the morning Mac and Dr. Harrison stood in the doorway, watching Jack and Phryne. The matron stood behind the doctors, her eyes taking in the site. Phryne had shifted in the night to turn a bit, facing Jack. His body was curled around hers in a protective manner and even after so many years of being cynical about the healing arts when family members interfered she had to admit that in this case it just might help the lady to get better faster. She certainly seemed to take comfort in his nearness she had to admit.

Still, they needed to examine Miss Fisher and Mac gently woke Jack up and he looked startled by their presence. Whether it was because they found him in the bed with Phryne or because he'd managed to get some sleep she was unsure. He moved to get up and found out the Mac was totally correct, his arm hurt like hell this morning. She saw him wince and told him she'd get him something more for the pain. 

"I'm sorry; she just seemed a bit restless and when I touched her she settled a bit. I didn't mean to fall asleep." He looked at them hoping that he hadn't committed an egregious error and waited for Dr. Harrison, or worse, the matron to speak. 

"She looks none the worse for wear, Dr. Harrison," the nurse stated. The next few minutes Jack stood by and watched as they checked Phryne; the only concern was that her temperature was a bit elevated, but otherwise nothing else had changed.

The rise in temperature frightened Jack; that could mean she was developing an infection and that was the thing that Mac said they had to be worried about. He said another prayer that she would escape that fate; just let her heal and wake up, he asked.

He was suddenly aware of how disheveled he looked as he ran his fingers through unruly locks of hair that had fell down over his forehead. Jack excused himself to find the lavatory and try to pull himself together. He looked a fright and almost laughed because he rarely paid that much attention. Yes, he liked to be neat and presentable, but other than making sure his hair was combed and he was dressed in a tidy manner he thought little about his appearance. Right now, with his hair cockeyed, his clothes a rumpled, bloodied mess he was quite appalled. He washed up as best he could and found that moving his arm was a small bit of agony. Dark circles rimmed his eyes as well and he acknowledged that while he might have slept a little, it did nothing to refresh him.

Back in Phryne's room he found that the matron had brought him more tea and the hot and steamy brew smelled heavenly. She'd also found a few biscuits which he managed to choke down as well. They tasted of pasteboard, but he at least imagined that he felt a bit stronger after he was done. Mac handed him two tablets again and he swallowed them without a protest.

At eight precisely Prudence arrived, clucking to herself as she saw how the bruises on her niece's face had deepened overnight. Prudence thought that Jack didn't look much better but hesitated before she spoke the words. He was clearly deeply upset about Phryne and no doubt his injury was painful for him. He would do well to go home to rest and eat, but telling him would likely garner her nothing but wasted effort. Not because he was mean spirited but because he was obviously so worried about her niece.

She decided to take a chance of voicing her thoughts when Constable Collins arrived with Miss Williams. After the discussion was held and questions answered by Dr. Harrison Prudence gently suggested to Jack that he might benefit by a trip home to rest.

He only nodded tiredly; there seemed to be little fight left in him. Prudence tut-tutted in concern over her soon to be nephew, a thought that would have further distressed Jack had he known about it.

Prudence hadn't slept well herself; worry about Phryne and thinking about the alliance between her niece and the Inspector had held sleep at bay a good portion of the night. She had come to the conclusion that she quite approved of the engagement between the two of them. He came from a good family, a top family in fact and if his chosen profession was less than desirable, she could always applaud him for the humanistic philanthropy of it. He was a loyal and steadfast companion for Phryne and certainly he had a calming effect on her behavior. She was sure of it.

Jack finally surrendered reluctantly but he knew that everyone was concerned about him and they needed to focus their attention on Phryne, not him. He and Hugh had little to say to one another on the way back to Phryne's home; there was never a question as to where he was going. 

Not as far as he was concerned anyway. Mr. Butler had breakfast waiting for him and then listened as Jack told him of the progress, or lack of progress with Phryne.

"There is little I can say to you, Inspector that will ease your fears, but I do know Miss Fisher to be a woman of substantial strength of will and I feel that will stand her in good stead where healing is concerned. She will let nothing stand in her way to a full recovery, I am sure."

Jack acknowledged that was true; it was the same thing Mac had tried to tell him too. But when you're watching a loved one in such serious circumstance it was very hard not to focus on the worst scenarios. He'd love her no matter what and he'd show her that every day the rest of her life if she'd let him. The question was, would she?

 

To be continued…

 

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I will be taking a brief holiday break and won't be posting again until January 5, 2015. I hope you have a lovely holiday season. May the new year brings blessings and joy to your lives. Happy New Year to all of you!**


	19. Chapter 19

Sidney woke up as dawn spread fingers of gold and orange over the city. The house was quiet and terribly cold. He shifted to sit on the edge of the bed and grimaced as the bed springs creaked loudly in the pale light. His feet hurriedly searched for the slippers that were on the floor, which was abominably chilly feeling. He yanked on a heavy robe and damned this creaky old house that didn't keep out the cold one bit.

He headed into the kitchen to see if Earl had returned. He hoped to see him nodding off in the chair as he was prone to do but instead the room was cold and empty, just as it had been last night. For the first time it occurred to Sidney that Earl might not be coming back and he felt the first vestiges of panic start in his chest.

Without Earl, he had no way of finding Patch, the somewhat illusive cousin that only Earl seemed to be able to find. Patch was only a nickname to complicate matters further, so unless it was widely known it would prove a further obstacle in finding the blasted man  
.   
Sidney took a mental inventory of exactly what he knew about Earl and it added up to nothing; a big fat zero. He didn't have any other family as far as Sidney knew; his mother had passed a few years ago and his father a year later. That was the total sum of his knowledge of his right hand man.

Next, he headed into the living room to start a fire and as he entered the room he saw Rudy, asleep on what passed as a settee in the room. Anger streaked through him at the sight of his lazy employee, mouth open and snoring like a freight train.

Sidney yanked a pillow out from under his head and watched dispassionately as it startled Rudy enough that he jerked and fell off the settee. He quickly scurried to his feet and saw his boss staring at him with a nasty gleam in his eye.

This wouldn't be good, he knew.

"Sleep well?" Sidney asked softly, deceptively as his eyes narrowed with anger.

"I…I, well, sure, Boss, sure."

"I believe I told you to report back when you had news of Earl?"

"I, um, yeah, you did. It's just, well you were sleepin' so's I just let yer be." His words were met with a stony silence that suddenly frightened him more that anger would. "It's jus that he um, well, you see, Boss, Earl, he be dead. Shot, probably shot hisself. That's what Blackie Balder told me. Fell on the gun, he did."

"Shot himself?" The skeptical look on his face told Rudy that his boss wasn't pleased at what he'd been told and likely didn't believe it. 

"I ain't lyin', Boss. Fell on the gun the coppers said. That's what Blackie said."

"And just who is Blackie? How would he know?"

"Blackie be the bloke who runs the shoe shine stand right outside of the City South precinct. All the coppers talk with him; they was in a big tizzy to find the person who shot Miss Sanderson, he said."

"Are Robinson and Miss Fisher dead as well?"

"Uh, no sir. But the lady detective be in hospital. They's alive, both of 'em."

Sidney wished he had something in his hand to throw; his anger strangled him, the irony of the situation. His beautiful Rosie was dead and those two dared to live! He was incensed, furious and the venom of his fury nearly choked him.

Rudy took a step backwards, forgetting that the settee was behind him. He fell back against it and it tipped over backwards with his weight. He ended up on his back, feet in the air and a solid lump on his head. He tried to scramble to his feet, knocking over a table in the process. As he struggled to his feet he saw that Sidney's face was fiery red and he pulled the table and settee back to rights, making sure to keep them between him and his boss.

"You idiot! Be careful!" Sidney spat, further infuriated by the clumsiness of his employee.

"Yessir," Rudy said, rubbing his head. When he looked at his fingers he saw blood on them and felt a bit woozy at the sight; he didn't like the looks of blood, especially his own. 

"Do you have any idea where to find Earl's cousin? The one who was going to take us to Singapore?"

Rudy knew that they 'us' didn't include him. He also didn't know Earl's cousin and didn't have a clue where to find him either. He was starting feel a bit faint he realized as he felt a slight trickle of warm blood start to roll down his head. Dirty fingers swiped it away and he stared in horror at how much blood was on them. A warm feeling washed over him as he crumpled to the floor.

Sidney let out a loud groan and cursed the man for his clumsy stupidity. He was utterly useless Sidney decided as he headed into the kitchen to brew a bit more tea. He'd give him 10 minutes to wake up and then he'd kick the imbecile awake if he had to. 

There was just no such thing as a good employee any longer.

 

***

 

Prudence and Dot sat vigil with Phryne, watching as she moved restlessly about the bed at times, still as could be at others. A few times she called out for Jack, but mostly she was quiet and still very pale.

Dr. Harrison, Mac and the matron checked on her frequently, but never seemed to find any change to her condition. She was running a slight temperature, but given everything that had happened they weren't alarmed about it, at least not at this time.

No one could tell if she'd do better if Jack were here now, but, while Prudence mulled over whether or not she should ring him. She finally decided to let him rest and refresh himself; he had looked positively haggard when he left this morning. Dr. Macmillan had told her that his arm wasn't serious, but that it was plenty painful for him so Prudence settled for carrying on with Miss Williams, who was quiet mostly, saying her rosary over and over as nimble fingers worried the beads.

At 10 o'clock a nurse brought in a tea tray complete with biscuits and while neither Prudence nor Dot was hungry, the tea was welcome and the small plates with biscuits gave them something to do with their hands. The efforts of hospital staff were noticed with approval by Prudence who was a member of their board. 

At this point all they could do was wait and that was the hard part Prudence admitted. No matter how much she wished Phryne to wake up, it was beyond her control, a very bitter pill for her to swallow.

 

***

 

Jack stood and looked at Phryne's bed; a bed that they had shared briefly a mere 24 hours before. It wouldn't be fair to say that he regretted that they hadn't made love at that point; both of them had been so tired that it wouldn't have been what either of them wished. Still, now in retrospect he had regrets that he hadn't at least allowed himself to hold her, as he had wanted to do. 

Mr. Butler had done his best to rally him with a hearty breakfast, of which Jack managed to choke down part of. It tasted like pasteboard but that wasn't due to Mr. Butler's lack of skill but rather Jack's lack of enthusiasm about eating. His family might have laughed over that as Jack was perpetually hungry and never missed an opportunity to partake in whatever food was offered.

He knew he needed to telephone his mother, who be now would be anxiously waiting to hear from him but all he wanted right now was a warm bath. Mac had told him not to get his wound wet, so a shower was definitely not in his picture. He turned the taps on and adjusted the temperature before heading into Phryne's dressing room in search of clean clothes to put on after his bath. 

He spotted one of his favorite outfits that Phryne wore, a white cashmere sweater that she usually wore with white wool trousers. He held the arm of the sweater in his hand for a moment, feeling the softness of it and brought it up to his face and was positive he could smell Phryne's scent on it. He inhaled deeply and felt tears sting his eyes once more before he hastily closed them tightly, trying to shut away the pain and fear, an action that didn't work very well at all.

He gathered his things and headed back to the bedroom so that he could turn the taps off before he undressed and slid carefully into the warm water. He'd forgotten to ask Mr. Butler if there was any other soap in the house; what was here was a lovely smelling Castile and while quite nice, he doubted if the fragrance would do anything for him. Still, it was what was here so he hoped that everyone would ignore the floral scent on him  
.  
He had to admit that he felt a bit better as he climbed out of the tub. He was still extraordinarily tired and as much as the bed was calling his name for a nap, he wanted to call his mother and the hospital to check on Phryne. They had promised to let him know if anything changed, but he needed to make sure they hadn't forgotten.

While Elise Robinson was happy that Jack called her, she wasn't happy about the news or how tired her son sounded. He promised her that he was going to sleep for a few hours and then told her that he was staying at Phryne's home for the time being.

That was an excellent idea she later told her husband; it would help him to feel a bit closer to the woman he loved, to be among her things. The judge wisely nodded his head in agreement and thought privately that his dear wife's philosophy was more from a woman's perspective than a man's. But, if it helped his son even a little bit, James Robinson would be happy about it. His son needed all the little bits of peace he could get right now.

After Jack spoke to his mother he telephoned the hospital and talked with Dr. Harrison. No, Phryne hadn't awoken yet, no, there was no change; she still was a bit restless which was common with head injuries and yes, she still had a bit of a fever, but they weren't worried about it yet.

Jack hung up the phone, relieved and worried at the same time. He was relieved that she hadn't gotten worse but worried that she wasn't better. He sat on the small chair by the telephone table and ran his fingers through hair that was already a bit disheveled. He hadn't put the pomade in yet to help keep his unruly locks into place; he had figured there wasn't a point until after he woke up from a nap.

Mr. Butler, hearing the inspector was off the telephone entered the hallway and called out, "Inspector, is there anything I can get for you?"

"No, thank you, Mr. Butler. I'm going to try and sleep for a few hours." He started up the stairs when there was a knock on the door and waited while Mr. Butler answered it.

"Hello, I'm Chief Commissioner Matlock. Might Inspector Robinson be available?"

Jack stepped down the stairs and greeted the commissioner, not at all surprised that he'd come here to see him instead of his own house. "Commissioner, come in." Jack showed him into the parlor and asked, "Would you care for some tea or coffee?"

"No, I won't be staying long and that is apparently a good thing; Jack, you look done in. My boy, you need to sleep."

Jack nodded, "Yes, that is next on my list. Have you any news about Rosie's murder?"  
"Unfortunately, no, we haven't any more leads yet. I stopped by to tell you that George Sanderson woke up this morning. Apparently he's in fairly good shape, considering everything. The damage to his body could have been much worse."

"You've seen him?"

"No, Annabelle let me know."

"I'm thankful he is okay; Annabelle and John have enough on their plates with Rosie's death. I plan to telephone her, but, well I just haven't had the chance."

"Understandable, Jack. They know about Phryne and I'm sure they don't expect to hear from you immediately. Now, I must go, I just wanted to tell you about George." He walked to the front door and placed a hand on Jack's good shoulder and squeezed it lightly, an attempt at a show of compassion for the younger man. Their eyes met briefly and they shared a brief nod before Matlock left. Jack sighed and closed the door before heading upstairs to the bedroom, to sleep, perchance to dream? 

Even Shakespeare failed to bolster him right now.

 

***

 

Two different households in Melbourne decided to try and help to keep everyone's spirits up by providing food. It was the way that both Mr. Butler and Elise coped, by taking care of the ones they loved. Elise was already willing to embrace Phryne's 'family' so her job was to make sure they all got through this the best way they could and that meant that their stomach's wouldn't go hungry.

She arrived at the hospital with two large baskets of food for the group, just as Jack arrived with another. The waiting group had been offered a private waiting area, something that most likely occurred because of Prudence's connections with the hospital. A table was soon laid with an appetizing, if impromptu meal. Bert and Cec both headed to the table, Bert because it was something to do and Cec to fix a plate for Alice; he worried about her and knew that she needed to eat. 

Soon all of them were sharing a somber meal, except for Jack who had eaten before he came, thanks to Mr. Butler and his way of making sure that he got exactly what he wanted, which at this time was for the inspector to eat.

Aunt P and Dot both joined the group, followed by Mac, who was thankful for the food. As a doctor she'd learned to sleep and eat when you could because you never knew when you might have the chance again.

In Phryne's room it was Jack's turn to sit silently with Phryne. It bothered him to see her so restless and on the few occasions that she moaned or called his name a sprig of hopefulness burst from his heart, only to be torn away as quickly as it blossomed.

Mac wandered in and out and try as hard as he might, Jack couldn't determine if she were worried or not. He'd hate to play poker with the good doctor because she was a master at hiding her thoughts.

For three days the routine stayed much the same, Aunt P and Dot with her in the mornings and afternoons and Jack watching over her the rest of the time. Often he spent at least a few hours in the bed with her, as the pain in his arm allowed, and she seemed to take great comfort from his warmth. He read Shakespeare to her, the Sonnets which he thought she might like.

Late on the fourth night she almost sat up completely in the bed, thrashing wildly and Jack went to hold her to keep her from falling. She felt on fire, and the doctor was immediately summoned to check on her.

A fever was beginning to ravage his love and there didn't seem to be anything he could do to help but to sit back and let Dr. Harrison take control.

Jack Robinson, the man who always was in control was lost.

 

To be continued…

 

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that I have missed answering some comments. Jenn had surgery a week before Christmas and has had a lot of complications because of it. That has taken a good deal of my time. I do want to thank you SO much for taking time to read and comment, you, the readers make this all worthwhile!**


	20. UPDATE

Winning Phryne will be publishing on Wednesday's from now on. Since I have two stories going at one time this will help me to keep things a bit less complicated since trying to post two of them at once can be kind of stressful!

Thank you all for hanging in here with me. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed right now since my daughters surgery. But she's finally mending and getting over the infection so I hope to have things together again soon.

Cyndy


	21. Chapter 21

"Excuse me? But just who are you?" 

Phryne's words shocked most of the people in the room. For a moment, the room was silent, the kind of silence that made it possible to hear hearts beating rapidly. A roaring silence. Deafening.

Jack felt dizzy for a moment; he heard his heartbeat thundering in his ears. She didn't know who he was? He shifted his stance to keep his knees from buckling because he was so astounded.

Suddenly everyone in the room started to speak at once.

"Phryne dear, this is Jack, your fiancé," Aunt P spoke up, her voice rife with confusion.   
Jack saw Phryne glance down at her hand and the look of stunned fascination showed clearly on her face.

"Miss, this is Jack!" Dorothy said as well. 

"Phryne! Of course you know him. For heaven's sake, he's been one of your main topics of conversation for the past two years." Mac's words were blunt, to say the least, mostly in the hope to stir her memories. The idea that she didn't remember Jack was almost beyond comprehension. What about the rest of them?

What about the rest of them? Oh God, what if she didn't remember any of them?   
Amnesia? It was almost unthinkable.

The only person in the room who didn't immediately speak, who didn't even look altogether shocked was Dr. Harrison. He moved to Phryne's bedside and quickly began to examine her.

"I need everyone to leave the room while I examine Miss Fisher," he said over his shoulder. For a few seconds they all seemed rooted to their spots, reluctant to move. "Please?" He needed to determine just how severe her amnesia was and that could be uncomfortable for her family to hear. It wasn't uncommon after such critical head trauma for temporary amnesia to occur. Assuming this was only temporary.

Finally Jack, Aunt P and Dorothy filed through the door, all feeling crestfallen at this new turn of events. 

How on earth was this possible they wondered?

 

***

 

"Doctor, you are emotionally connected with this patient. Are you sure you should be here with her at this time? It could prove difficult for you."

"Difficult for me? What about Phryne? That would seem to be the problem, not me. Yes, I will stay!" Mac retorted, managing to sound defensive and vulnerable at the same time. 

Dr. Harrison turned his attention to Miss Fisher, pulling up a chair beside her bed and flipping to a new page on her chart. 

Phryne had been quiet for the past few minutes. Mac was disturbed by this fact; Phryne was never quiet about anything. Ever!

Dr. Harrison asked, "Do you know your name?"

"Um, Miss Fisher?"

The question had been rather pointless but he pressed on. "Do you know it because you remember it or because you've heard us calling you by that name?"

"I - well, I heard you say so."

"But you didn't know it until someone said it?"

"Yes, of course I know my own name!" she exclaimed but the unsure look she wore on her face told a different tale.

"Where do you live, Miss Fisher?"

"Here, in this city?"

"Which city would that be?"

A terrified look passed over her face and she started crying as it all began to become clear to her. She didn't know where she was. Australia? England? Surely not France, the accents weren't right.

The red-haired woman seemed…almost …seemed familiar. Who was she, besides another doctor?

"Where am I? Please tell me," she asked, almost choking on the words.

 

***

 

Aunt P felt slightly faint and leaned a bit more on Jack as they walked to the waiting lounge. She sank down gratefully into the chair that in ordinary circumstances would be deemed abominable. 

Dot noticed that she looked slightly pale and rushed to see if she could find a cup of tea for the elder woman. As she walked down the hall, Bert, Cec and Mr. Butler arrived with a basket, which hopefully had some tea in it and maybe some biscuits.

Yes, it contained those items and much more. When Dorothy hadn't returned home earlier as was normal Mr. B rallied the troops, aka, Bert and Cec to head down to the hospital to find out what was going on.

Mr. Butler, always known to have some strange sense about what was required even before the request was made had let his intuition guide him in the case and was grateful that the lads had jumped to, immediately showing up to get him and an over-stuffed basket of food to the hospital.

All three men were stymied by the news, as shocked and afraid for Miss Fisher as the other three.

No one was particularly hungry and even though Jacks favorite sandwich was included he didn't dare to eat right now. His stomach was as nervous as if a swarm of bees had taken up residence in it.

Aunt P and Dorothy accepted cups of tea and sipped the delicious brew cautiously. Mr. B made about the best cuppa of anyone they knew but there was too much worry in the room to be able to enjoy it.

"So the doctors are examining her now?" Mr. B ventured.

Jack nodded glumly. "We really don't know anything yet," he said and it was hard to not notice the despair in his voice.

At this point he wasn't really worried that she hadn't remembered him. What he was concerned about was how the amnesia might affect her; the idea of not remembering anything was a terribly scary prospect for a human being who so cherished past memories, for anyone, but especially Phryne. 

He couldn't stop the worry that perhaps she remembered everyone except him. What if she truly didn't love him? Didn't want to wear his ring? 

How would that change things?

 

***

 

"We are in Melbourne, Miss Fisher. Does that sound familiar to you at all?"

Phryne's brow wrinkled for a moment as she tried to place something here. A child, maybe? A little blond girl? For a moment it almost became clear and in a second the memory vanished, leaving her feeling even more lost.

She shook her head and tears sprung to her eyes again. "For a moment, there was a young girl, a blond haired girl. She might have been wearing blue ribbons." She snuffled as more tears stung her eyes. "My goodness, do I always cry so much? Do I have a…a…" she left off, not being able to think of the right word.

Mac knew exactly what she wanted and found a clean handkerchief in her pocket. "It's clean," she said with a smile and a nod.

Phryne looked at it for a moment and accepted it with a murmur of thanks.

Mac spoke up and said, "That small girl was most likely Janey, your younger sister. She died when she was very young."

"How?"

"That’s not important now, but it was very hard on your family. I'll tell you about it at another time."

Phryne nodded numbly, not sure what to think. She had to force herself to focus on Dr. Harrison when he spoke again.

"Miss Fisher, let's start with what happened to you, what brought you to the hospital. Do you remember any of that?"

"I, um, no, I don't think so. What happened to me?"

Dr. Harrison nodded to Mac who told the story. "We had just had a family celebration. You were there as was Jack, myself, Dorothy and Hugh, Mr. Butler, Bert, Cec and Alice."

"What were we celebrating?"

"Basically the last case you and Jack worked on. And also, Cec and Alice announced she was pregnant."

"Case? What do you mean?"

"Jack is a Detective Inspector with the City Police. You solve mysteries and you often work with him. This was a case where young girls were abducted and sold into white slavery. You found them on a ship that was getting ready to leave port and you, Jack and Hugh managed to release the girls and get the bad guys!" Mac told her, smiling at Dr. Harrison's expression as he heard the tale.

"What the bloody hell was I doing something like that for?" The words were just one tiny decibel below a scream and both Mac and Dr. Harrison winced.

"Because it's what you love to do; that and drive poor Jack to distraction, I might add."

Phryne was clearly puzzled by the red-haired woman's words. "So you were there, at dinner? Are we…friends?" she ventured.

"Yes, for many years, since the war in fact. We were in the ambulance service, in France."

War? France? Yes, she vaguely remembered a war, but it still was a huge mystery. "Um, so what happened after the dinner?"

"We all agreed to meet back at your house for drinks. I believe you and Jack arrived first. Apparently when you arrived and got out of the automobile someone started shooting at you. Jack was hit in the arm and you were shot in the head. When you fell you hit your head on the curb. If I'm correct, I believe that Dr. Harrison thinks that might be what is causing your amnesia."

Phryne watched as the man, whose name was Dr. Harrison nodded in agreement. "What is your name?" she asked the red-headed doctor who was evidently her friend, from the war? It seemed only a surreal memory, more like something she'd read about rather been a part of. 

So many questions filled her head, like how old she was, who her family was. She owned a house? Her life was all gone, every last detail. How could that be? She seemed to remember basic things, just not any personal memories. Was that possible? 

"My name is Elizabeth Macmillan but you always call me Mac." Mac took her hand for a moment and was surprised when Phryne immediately pulled it away and tucked it down firmly by her side.

The name didn't sound familiar at all, no matter how hard she tried to remember. A new question came to mind, "Where was I shot?"

"In your head Miss Fisher; your temporal lobe to be precise. We successfully removed the bullet. It's the wound on the other side that is causing your memory problem, as Dr. Macmillan suggested. Now, let's get back to a few more questions. For instance, let's see what general memories you have. Can you name the alphabet?"

Phryne thought about it for a moment and then recited them all without missing a single one. "Is that good?" she asked and for the first time a small smile lit up her face. She remembered something!

"Can you count to 20?"

Again she managed to get them all correct and felt a bit more confidant. She knew there were 4 seasons and that Australia was in the southern hemisphere and that England was in the north. She named many countries successfully but when she was asked which ones she had visited she drew a blank.

"Who are my parents? Are they here?"

The corners of Mac's mouth tweaked up as she tried to control a wide smile. Phryne may not realize it now but in normal circumstances she was positively thrilled that they weren't in Australia.

"No, Phryne, they are actually in England. Your father inherited a Baronetcy during the war. You are actually referred to as 'The Honorable Miss Fisher'. What do you remember about British rank and titles?" she asked, suddenly curious about this subject. Mac cared little for Phryne's title but this again shocked Dr. Harrison who hadn't realized he had been treating a member of the nobility.

Again this subject came easily to her, except the part about her father. 

Dr. Harrison made a few more notes on the chart, considering what he believed the issue to be. Miss Fisher seemed to have some sense of memories far in her past, although they were blurry at best. She seemed to remember nothing of her own personal life, so any memories that she did have would be colored by that. The good news was that she remembered most of the learned memories, which made him hopeful that she would eventually recover her memory. It was possible that she would never remember the trauma when she was shot, but otherwise he was sure that she'd be okay, eventually.

"Miss Fisher, considering everything we have discussed and learned; I think it very likely that you have a type of amnesia caused by traumatic events." He went on to explain his reasoning and Phryne listened quietly, trying to process it all.

"So you believe I will regain my memories?" she questioned, almost afraid to hope.

"Yes, I do. You may not ever remember the traumatic event, but the rest of your life, I do feel hopeful about. Think of it as the event sort of blocking the pathway for your other memory."

"How long?"

"I don't know for sure. It could be an hour, a week or a month or more. Most people seem to recover within a few weeks, although some almost immediately."

Phryne lay back on the bed, feeling terribly discouraged. It was like there was a large black cloud shrouding her memory and she didn't like it one damn bit!

 

To be continued…


	22. Chapter 22

Jack looked in the mirror and tried again to get the knot on his tie to at least look presentable. In frustration he untied it and again tried to get it correct. Finally, he thought that it would have to do and let out a long breath, not really pleased. Phryne had a gift with his tie and he shut his eyes tightly as he realized that it might be a long while before she came home; if she woke up at all that is. Mac had told him she would, but sometimes he felt overcome with abject worry and desperation to see her beautiful eyes looking at him.

Getting dressed presented problems for him. His arm ached abominably; just trying to get it into the sleeve of his jacket hurt like the dickens he decided. Mac had been treating his wound with Lisozyme, a salve to prevent infection from developing. She had also told him to ask for some medication for the pain when he needed it but he didn't like the numb and fuzzy feeling it gave him; better to just work through the pain he decided.

Mr. Butler had cleaned and pressed his black suit. As he looked at himself in the mirror he admitted that what was wrong really didn't have anything to do with his clothing; it was the task he had to do today that presented the problem.

This morning was Rosie's funeral. It was important for him to attend, he knew that. Annabelle and John had handled everything as George was once again ensconced in City Gaol. Commissioner had decided to let George out to attend the service, with the understanding that he would go immediately back to gaol with the conclusion of the service.

Annabelle had been very steady through it all, and of course John had stood with her all the way, through the scandal and Rosie's death. It could have taken a terrible toll on his position at the bank, but John himself was beyond reproach, considered an exemplary financier that commanded deep respect. If others were talking behind his back, (and undoubtedly there were some people who did) they were very careful to keep it from him.

John and Annabelle had stopped by the hospital last evening to see how he was. It only took a few seconds for them to see his deep love for Phryne and his anguish that he couldn't help her right now. They'd tried hard to lift his spirits and encouraged him to just love her and be patient. 

That was the hardest task of all.

Convinced that nothing else was be to done about his appearance he headed downstairs and was greeted by Mr. Butler asking if he wanted breakfast before he left.

"Just some coffee, please," Jack answered, not sure if his unsteady stomach could take anything else.

"Sir, might I say that I believe that it would be good for you to eat a little something. Might I suggest toast to go with the coffee?" He didn't want the Inspector to think him to be too forward but he definitely looked a bit peaked this morning.

Jack nodded to please the older man; he was concerned about him he knew.

"Won't be but a minute, Inspector. Would you like to sit in the dining room?"

"No, I'll sit in the kitchen, thank you."

"As you please, Inspector."

Jack followed him into the kitchen and watched as the impeccable butler poured him a cup of coffee, added sugar, which he knew that Jack liked in his coffee and sat the cup and saucer on the table in front of Jack.

"The toast will be done quickly. Would you like jam or marmalade with it?"

"No, I think plain will be better, Mr. Butler. I'm not quite sure that it is going to sit well with my stomach."

"Of course, I assumed as much. I'm sure this will be a trying morning, Inspector, if I'm not being too presumptuous.

"Not at all. It is not a morning I am looking forward to. I'd much rather be at hospital with Miss Fisher."

"Certainly, I do understand." 

Jack saw a look of something that was akin to fear cross Mr. Butler's face. Jack was familiar with that. Mac repeatedly told him that she would wake up, but this was the 5th day and mostly she just lay stiffly in the bed or thrashed around a great deal. Both scenarios were hard to watch.

When the toast was ready Jack managed to choke down one piece with his coffee and decided that was all he could handle.

Mr. Butler accompanied him to the foyer and handed him his overcoat and hat. When Jack told him thank you Mr. B uncharacteristically laid a warm hand on Jack's shoulder and said, "You are one of the strongest persons that I know, Inspector. You will get through this."

Jack nodded and tried to smile but it didn't quite work, so he turned abruptly left the house, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

He hoped that Mr. Butler was correct in his estimation of Jack's strength because he knew that was the only thing keeping him steady.

 

***

 

Sidney paced frantically in the dingy parlor of the small cottage they were using as a hideout. He'd seen the notice in the paper that stated that Rosie's funeral was today.

He was in turmoil; his precious love, his childhood companion was being laid to rest and he couldn't be there for her. In his mind he had completely rationalized her death and that it was all her fault for him having to shoot her. He'd forgiven her of course, but he still couldn't go to the funeral, unless he came up with a good disguise.

Things hadn't been going his way since his arrest on charges that were ridiculous. He'd only been helping those girls but the Melbourne Constabulary refused to see that point. No, instead he'd been handcuffed and taken away like a criminal! They'd refused to bring his personal physician in to treat his wound, telling him that the gaol doctor would take care of it. He'd shuddered when he saw the man and grimaced over his lack of cleanliness. Still, it was all the treatment he was going to get so he muddled through it. It still hurt like the dickens though he thought, rubbing his arm slightly as he remembered the gunshot.

That bastard Jack Robinson had had the nerve to actually shoot him! How dare he? He should have been taught as a school lad to have respect for his betters, but obviously he hadn't the sense to see it. 

Sidney knew that the problem was that he was jealous about Rosie, that she had left Jack to be with him. She obviously had made the right choice; she was his jewel. He'd wanted to tell Jack that he had personally enjoyed the favors of his wife that he didn't want to share with her. A woman, such a beautiful woman deserved to be lavished with love and attention and Sidney had done his best to give it to her.

Before he left Melbourne he was going to make sure that Miss Fisher and Jack Robinson each were killed in the most distressing manor possible. He wanted them both to suffer, to watch as they were tortured in front of the other. He'd also take Miss Fisher, let Jack see how a real man pleases a woman.

All that couldn't be done until he has his passage away secured. And THAT was proving to be the biggest thorn in his side; finding a safe way out of Australia.

Neither Rudy nor Scotch Barlow, another associate that Sidney sometimes employed had found Patch Bigelow. It would be helpful possibly if they knew his given name because Patch was only a nickname. Still, even asking about a Bigelow hadn't helped either. So it looked like he was going to have to find another way out of here and taking a ship from Melbourne harbor didn't look like it was possible. The boys said the docks were heavily covered with coppers and he'd likely never make it to a ship.  
Possibly he might go over land to Brisbane or even farther to Cairns if he had to. It wasn't a good choice but it was better than just sitting here waiting fruitlessly while twiddling his thumbs.

 

***

 

Elise and James Robinson arrived at the church for the funeral before Jack did. They decided to wait outside for him suspecting that he would need their presence with him. It wasn't usual for an ex-spouse to attend such things but Jack was above all a man of honor and felt it would be bad form not to attend. So here they were, standing in the chilled air while their breaths made small puffy mist as they exhaled. A few minutes later Jack arrived and both his mother and father were alarmed at how gaunt he looked and pale, very pale. He was wearing himself out trying to be with Phryne constantly. Even yesterday, when Elise and Amanda stopped in to see if anything had changed he hadn't looked this badly. It must be nerves over the funeral.

Actually, that wasn't really the reason; Jack was feeling overcome with guilt over his marriage. He'd thought he had put it all behind him but this funeral was just another reason to heap more guilt on his soul. 

Rosie hadn't deserved to die like this, or at all for that matter. If he'd been a better husband, if he'd paid more attention to her and cherished her more, than she wouldn't have turned to Sidney Fisher as she had. She'd be safe now, instead of dead.

As a constable he saw far too many dead bodies; he should be inured to it, but he couldn't be with Rosie. He'd not seen her body because he'd been too occupied and worried with taking care of Phryne. In truth, he'd not known that she was dead until later at the hospital, when Constable Collins had told him. He'd managed to push it out of mind for the most part because his worry was so focused on Phryne, but every now and again a pain hung heavy on his heart as he thought of her.

He greeted his parents with a hug for his mum and a handshake for his father. He couldn't even express how grateful he was for their presence today and he felt just a bit steadier as he walked in, his father's arm across his shoulder and his mum on the other side her dainty hand on his arm.

Inside they greeted John and Annabelle. John had always been Jack's best friend and both Elise and James liked him a great deal; he was actually more like a son to them as anything else. He and Jack were practically inseparable as children.

"Annabelle, I'm so sorry for your loss. Such a terrible tragedy. Please, if there is anything I can do for you, you'll let me know?"

"Thank you so much Elise. Roberta delivered enough food this morning to feed an army and we're very grateful for that kindness. We're not having a gathering after the funeral; we think its best just to let things be, considering it all."

"Yes, I understand," Elise murmured. She gave Annabelle a hug before they all took their seats.

Not many people attended the service and it seemed that most of them were only there to gather gossip. Jack tried to keep his cool as he heard the nasty, hushed voices around him but that was no easy task. Still, he refused to let it get to him; instead he tried to focus on the early years with Rosie, the good times.

He wasn't entirely successful, but when the service was over he felt a bit of relief and possibly a bit of shame over it. But it didn't matter in the end. He just hoped he made peace with his past; it was the most he could hope for.

He drove back to Phryne's home to change before heading to the hospital, anxious to see her. He focused on seeing her and touching her, it's what he needed right now more than anything.

 

***

 

When Jack finally arrived at the hospital it was just quarter past two, much later than he usually arrived. As he walked into the room he saw Mac and Dr. Harrison examining Phryne. Aunt P and Miss Williams stood to the side, watching, both wearing a distressed look on their faces.

"Aunt Prudence, what is happening?" he asked, kissing the woman on the cheek lightly as a greeting. Her name, or the more familiar 'Aunt' didn't yet flow easily off his tongue but they were family, of a sorts as she believed them to be engaged.

"She may be waking up; something has changed as they examined her. Or, if that isn't happening, she might be passing, Jack." She saw the deeply panicked look on his face and said, "We just don't know yet. Please, hold on to your faith. Say a prayer."

Praying wasn't something that came easily to Jack. He tended to put his faith into tangible things rather than the intangible. Still, the past few days he had prayed a few times and if it did nothing else it had made him feel a bit better. He sent up a plea to God, to a supreme being to please let her wake up, to be okay.

Yesterday he had noticed that the bruises on her face were starting to fade to more of a yellow, with only shadows of a bluish tint in them now. He'd taken that as a positive sign, even though they were still worried about her fever and infection in the gunshot wound. They cleaned it often and again, it seemed to be getting better. The swelling around the wound was also down a bit as well, another good sign.

Mac and Dr. Harrison were still talking quietly when he stepped up to the bed and took Phryne's hand. It still felt a bit warm, but hopefully the fever would go altogether soon.  
Suddenly Phryne opened her eyes and sat straight up in the bed and called out, "JACK!" then immediately fell back into the bed covers. Mac rushed to her side, followed closely by Dr. Harrison.

Jack continued to hold her hand and called her name. Her eyes opened again and she looked around the room and blinked. It was damnably bright in here she decided, using her free hand to shield her eyes. Miss Williams immediately rushed to close the blinds, rendering the room a bit more shadowed.

Phryne looked around at the group and focused on each face in turn. Finally she looked at Jack and heard him tell her he loved her, how happy he was that she had awoken. 

She squinted a little as she looked at him. The room still seemed too bright but her eyes were adjusting a bit. 

"Phryne, my darling. I am so happy to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Darling? The man standing next to her and holding her hand was exquisitely handsome and he had the most beautiful eyes she thought. But why was he calling her 'darling'?

She tried to speak and found her mouth abominably dry, it felt as if it was full of cotton. The woman with red hair quickly realized the problem and grabbed a tumbler and filled it from the pitcher on the bedstead. She held it to Phryne's lip and watched as Phryne drank deeply until Mac pulled the glass away.

"Not too much, Phryne. It could make you sick."

Phryne? 

Jack leaned over and kissed her hand; his love was awake. He smiled at her again, his heart overcome with joy.

She was startled by the gesture and immediately pulled her hand away from him. "Excuse me? But just who are you?"

To be continued…

 

**Hi everyone! Sorry to have missed the last few weeks but we're back on schedule now. Real life has a way of kicking your behind and mine has been a target for awhile. The good news is that my daughter is doing much better now; the bad news is that most of us in the house have had the flu and still has 3 grandsons down with it and home from school. LOL, try being here with 3 cranky, bored kids! Yikes…**

**Thank you all so much who take the time to read and comment as well. I am terribly behind on answering comments but I'll try to catch up.**

**By the way, I often post messages on Face Book about what is going on. If you would like to friend me on there, you'll usually find out if the post will be delayed. You can find me at Cyndy Klein Hodge.**

**Author's Note:**

> A/N This is the first story I've published here. I have my own site where I also publish and I'm up to 6 chapters there so I will post twice a week here to catch up and then continue with one post each Monday. I hope you enjoy the story.


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